


An Unfinished Song

by molly2012



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molly2012/pseuds/molly2012
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Dr Maura Isles once spent time in Africa with Médicins Sans Frontières, where she met US Army officer Jane Rizzoli. Five years later, after it all went wrong in a war-torn refugee camp, fate has thrown them together again in Boston. Can they take this second chance, or is it too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_So... a little different from what I normally write, but I thought I'd throw it out there and see how it goes! Hope you enjoy, and that you'll let me know if you do :). It will be a multi-chapter fic, and I'll try and update as often as I can. I should maybe also mention that I've never worked with MSF or been in those kinds of situations. I've done as much research as I can, but I apologise in advance if I've got anything wrong!_

_And - on a different note - a massive THANK YOU to whoever nominated me for the Rizzles fanfic awards :). It really means a lot._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Rizzoli & Isles, or any of the characters (unfortunately). **   
_

* * *

When anyone mentioned the word 'Africa' to Dr. Maura Isles, the first thing that she remembered was the sun.

During the day, it was searing. It never seemed to rise so much as march over the horizon every morning, already radiating a fierce heat that just got more intense as the day wore on. With little or no natural shade outside, the only escape was into the run-down, tin or mud shacks of the village, and the camp that had sprung up around it, but they offered little respite. In fact, Maura had often thought that the walls actually seemed to suck in warmth from the sweltering air surrounding them. It didn't help that the hospital, such as it was, had no air conditioning. Every last bit of electricity had to be used for running the few machines that they had, and Maura couldn't remember a day going past when she wasn't dripping with sweat by mid-morning. The other doctors had told her that she would soon get used to it, but she never had. And, in her memories, the sun was always glaring. She knew that there would have been cloudy days, and she even had some flashing images of the dirt and sand turning to mud - so there had to have been rain. But she could never remember that properly. It was always the sun.

She remembered that the heat did not get any more bearable at night. The harsh temperatures of the day cooled slightly when the sun dropped below the horizon, but the air always seemed to stay sticky and oppressive. Maura could recall lying on her back on the small camp-style bed that was shrouded in a mosquito net, trying not to move too much because movement generated yet more heat. Her room, shared with two other doctors, was directly above what they optimistically called the 'ward', and so nights were filled with indeterminate sounds from the sick and injured. Crying, the odd moan from someone in pain or who couldn't sleep. And hushed, muffled noises from the rest of the camp, and the scrubby African bush beyond.

The other thing that immediately came to mind about Africa was the flies. She had never known anything like it. Some days it wasn't so bad, but other days there were clouds of them - and, instead of being repelled by her extra-strength DEET lotions and sprays, they actually seemed to like them. In the end, like the other medical aid workers who had been there for far longer, she just gave up. Anti-malarial precautions were the most important, and as long as she didn't attract mosquitoes, she could cope with a few flies.

It couldn't have been any more different to where she was working now.

The sun never penetrated down to the morgue in the Boston Police headquarters. There were no windows, and so Maura never even knew whether the sun was shining or not unless she went upstairs. The temperature was strictly controlled, and instead of spending her working day drenched in sweat, she was neither too hot nor too cold. There were no flies. No sandy dirt that turned to mud in the rain. Instead of pulling on the nearest pair of khaki shorts and tank top to go to work in, she was able to indulge her love of designer clothes, knowing that she had the luxury of scrubs to change into, and a lab coat, and a dry cleaner down the street. And her patients never moaned in distress. They never writhed in pain on the cold steel tables, never screamed in terror when she gave an injection or made an incision, and Maura could help them. She could speak for them when no one else could - or would.

Help was what she had wanted to give in Africa. And yet, for the six months that she was there, she had never felt so helpless in her life.

Of course, she remembered other things as well. She often thought of the doctors and nurses who had worked alongside her, and she thought of the people that she had treated, or tried to treat. Although most of them had merged into a faceless, shifting mass in her memory, a few stood out clearly - faces, illnesses or injuries, sometimes even names. And always their voices. Sometimes, in the middle of the night when sleep eluded her, she could still hear them. Lying on cool, crisp sheets, surrounded by all the comfort and luxury of the home that she had created for herself before she left, she would find that the memory consumed her whether she wanted it to or not. Often it would be several minutes before the harsh African sun turned back into the darkness of her bedroom, and then she would be left with a vaguely unsettled, guilty feeling that would keep her awake until the grey dawn broke through the curtains.

But there was one voice that she heard more than the others.

Jane Rizzoli hadn't been a patient, or a colleague. She had been an American army officer, and had arrived with the international peacekeeping force three months into Maura's stint with Médicins Sans Frontières. To start with, Maura had tried to ignore the presence of the soldiers. It was just another reminder of how close she was to the civil war that had created the camp in the first place, and she preferred not to think about that. Her priority was caring for anyone that needed her help, not the reasons that they were there. But slowly, day by day, week by week, Jane Rizzoli had seeped into her consciousness. There were regular patrols around the hospital - part of the peacekeeping mandate to secure a safe environment for humanitarian assistance - and, after a while, she had begun to notice a small smile of recognition on the Lieutenant's face whenever they passed each other. Tentatively, Maura had begun to return it. Smiles had turned into greetings, snatches of conversation had extended into longer chats over coffee - or what passed for coffee - and then coffee had become meals that were lingered over not because of the food, but because of the company and the luxury of having a spare hour to try and relax. And gradually, Maura's hesitancy and uncertainty around her new companion had melted away.

She had often thought how ironic it was, that she had made her first real friend in such uncompromising, difficult circumstances. But, when she thought of Africa, it wasn't just the heat and the flies and the hospital that came to her mind.

It was Lieutenant Jane Rizzoli.

She couldn't pretend that she hadn't begun, secretly, slightly guiltily, to think about more than friendship. She couldn't deny that she had found Jane very attractive, and there had been times when she thought that she had felt the same vibe coming from Jane. And even when she hadn't been able to shower, and her hair was greasy and she was exhausted and suffering from the perpetual upset stomachs that plagued everyone, Jane had managed to make her feel better. Jane had made her feel wanted. Jane had, somehow, known what to say to make her laugh when she had been ready to cry. And Jane had - perhaps without meaning to - made her feel like a woman again, in a place where all femininity had been stripped away.

But Maura had never had the chance to find out whether Jane had meant it or not. Like so many other things, their friendship - along with whatever else it might have grown into - had ended abruptly late one night in November, after days of escalating rumours and heightening tensions. No one had really known until that morning that the rebels were definitely heading for the area and, after that, things had happened so quickly that Maura hadn't had a chance to really take in what was happening until it was too late. She had realised that an evacuation order had been given for all American citizens in the region. But, for some reason, it hadn't registered that 'American citizen' meant her too. She had thought that her status as an aid worker would protect her. She had thought, as a doctor and as a member of an international charity, that she would be safe.

It wasn't until she had been ordered to leave, or lose her diplomatic protection, that she had finally understood. She didn't have a choice.

She had known, deep down, that Jane hadn't had a choice either. She had given Maura the order as an officer in the United States Army, not as Maura's friend. But, at the time, it had felt like a betrayal. Jane had been the only one who knew how much this work really meant to Maura. Maura had come to Africa to make a difference, and, after six months, she hadn't even scratched the surface. And yes, if she was honest, she felt like she had something to prove. Everyone who knew her had been horrified when she had announced that she was leaving for a war-torn refugee camp, and so she wanted to show that she could do it, and that she could stick it out and not just run home when things got tough.

And she had grown to really care.

She had told Jane to leave without her. She had expected some opposition, but ultimately a recognition that Maura was a grown woman who could make her own decisions, however stupid they were. What she hadn't expected was for the ultimatum to be delivered quite so harshly. Neither had she expected Jane to threaten to pack Maura's things for her before throwing her personally into a UN Jeep that was headed for the airport, two hundred kilometres away. Stunned, Maura had eventually complied. But she had also been too astonished, too hurt, too bewildered - and then, too angry - to speak to Jane on the journey. Six hours in a Jeep followed by another eight in a Boeing 747 cargo plane with turbulence...all without speaking a word to Jane. She had pretended to sleep, although sleep was impossible. She had, uncharacteristically, chatted to the three Belgian peacekeepers who were travelling with them, communicating seamlessly in French and leaving Jane out of the conversation entirely. She had tried to read the one book that she had brought with her, although that had soon started making her feel sick and she was forced to stop. Anything to avoid having to face the woman whom Maura had thought of as her best friend.

When they had landed in Germany, Maura hadn't seen Jane at the airport. She had disappeared, Maura assumed to a UN debriefing. She had had to go through a debrief of her own before being allowed onto a commercial flight back to Boston two days later...but still, no Jane. By that time, Maura's anger had started to dissipate somewhat. She had wanted to see Jane, to apologise, and to try and explain why she had reacted the way that she had. She had wanted to see if their friendship could survive a change in location and circumstances - if it might develop into something more. But, although she asked around, she hadn't been able to pin Jane down. And it wasn't until she was on a plane heading for home that she had realised that she would probably never see Jane again.

Two weeks after she had returned, she had opened an email from MSF to see photos of a massacre. The camp where she had been working, caught in the crossfire when the rebels passed through. Hundreds dead, hundreds more injured.

She had been physically sick.

In the weeks that followed, Maura had been clinical and detached enough to recognise the signs that she was struggling. The sleepless nights. The overwhelming feelings of guilt - guilt that she had treated Jane the way that she had, when Jane had probably saved her life by forcing her to leave, and guilt over not having stayed. Logically, she had known that it was a ridiculous notion to have, but she hadn't been able to shake the feeling that, if she had only stayed, she might have been able to save more lives. She might at least have been able to help her colleagues who were still there.

She had been offered counselling from MSF. But the only person that she had really wanted to talk to had been Jane. Somehow, she had felt like only Jane would really get what she was going through. Only Jane would be able to help her through it properly. But she had pushed Jane away, and she had no way of making it right.

So she had got herself through it like she always had done. She had worked. God, she had worked. She had carried on with her life where she had left off, moved back into her house and taken the dust sheets off all the furniture, and buried herself in work. No longer able to face the emotional turmoil that came with treating live patients, she had taken a job as assistant to the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. She never went out. She didn't really make any friends. She was always the first to arrive in the mornings, and the last to leave at night, always the one to volunteer to work on weekends and holidays when her colleagues just wanted to be at home with their families. And now, five years later, she had replaced the retired Chief, and she thought that she could probably be proud of what she had achieved. The title was hers. The smart office was hers. She was successful. Respected. And, finally, she felt like she was really making a difference.

But she also felt alone.

Lonely.

Maura always tried hard not to think about Jane. It had been an episode in her life, that was all. It was over. She had made mistakes, but there was nothing she could do about them now. She couldn't change the past, no matter how much she wished, in those early morning hours when she couldn't sleep, that she could.

And there had been times when she had wished really, really hard. Like a child closing their eyes on Christmas Eve and wishing for Santa to come down the chimney and bring exactly the right gift, Maura had squeezed her eyes shut as she buried her face into her pillow and wished for time to turn back, for a second chance. For something to bring Jane Rizzoli back into her life again. For some kind of miracle.

But, being a scientist, Maura didn't believe in such things.

Yet today, some kind of miracle had happened. Someone, somewhere, had seen fit to give her a second chance.

She wondered if she would remember this day in years to come, like she could still remember that day she had left Africa. Today was also a November day. A cold one, though, drizzly and slightly misty - or at least, it had been when she had arrived at work that morning. It was now mid-afternoon, and she hadn't left the morgue to see if it was still as miserable outside. A normal day in many respects, with paperwork and coffee and lab results. The morgue was quiet, a good third of the refrigerator space unfilled. They had a car crash victim. A stabbing. The unclaimed body of a homeless man who had died on a park bench. And a soldier - a cadet who had been washed up in Boston harbour two days before. It had saddened Maura beyond belief to have to do that autopsy. Normally, she didn't - couldn't- let it affect her. But something about that cadet had touched a nerve. Maybe it had been the fact that he had no family that they could trace, or the fact that he was only twenty. But when the DoD had called with a request to release the body, she had been only too glad to agree. Besides, there was no reason not to. It had been a simple drowning, a suicide while he had been in Boston visiting friends on a three-day leave. And now the army wanted the paperwork verified and the matter closed, and had notified Maura that a liaison would be coming from the West Point Military Academy, where the cadet had been training, to sort out whatever needed to be sorted.

Maura hadn't even blinked that morning when she had read, in the email, the name of the liaison who would be coming. Perhaps it hadn't registered properly. Or perhaps she hadn't quite believed it. But now her heart was thudding in her chest as she straightened up in her office chair. She felt the nerves gathering in her stomach as she stripped off the top sheet of the notepad she had been writing on, and carefully placed it into the waste bin before turning to face the entrance to her office, and the tall, khaki-clad figure who filled the doorway. Willing her voice to stay steady, balling her hands into fists on her lap and digging her fingernails into her palms, she took a deep breath.

'Lieutenant Rizzoli'. She swallowed. 'It's been a long time'.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow. Thank you for all the follows, favourites and reviews! They really mean a lot, and I'm glad people are enjoying this!_

_One guest reviewer on ff.net asked whether Jane and Maura wouldn't have exchanged contact details in Africa - in other words, why has it taken so long for them to meet up again. My feeling on this was that yes, they probably would have done on a basic level (Jane would have known Maura lived in Boston, Maura would have known which regiment Jane was with, and that she came from Boston). But I also felt that, after something like that had happened to drive them apart so badly, it would have taken enormous courage to make the first move. In this story, Maura doesn't have it, and Jane was too stubborn. This does come up again later, and I hope it's not too out of character for anyone. I know first-hand how hard it can be when bad feeling, and then time, come between people. It's not meant to be a bad reflection on either of the characters - just a view of how life can happen sometimes._

_I should also apologise, since I meant to have this updated sooner, but life threw me a bit of a curveball this week and, unfortunately, it's not likely to get better any time soon. So I hope you'll forgive me if future updates aren't any quicker - I promise I'll be working on it as much as I can :). Hope you enjoy this one._

* * *

_'Captain'._

But it took Maura a moment to register that the woman standing in front of her had spoken at all.

She hadn't changed in the slightest. Her dark hair was drawn back in a severe military-style bun, but Maura could see that, let loose, it would still be wild, curly and slightly frizzy. She still had the same lithe, athletic figure, and she was just as tall - although really, Maura thought, it was silly to have noticed that. Jane was hardly likely to have shrunk. And she still had the same deep brown eyes.

It was those eyes that held Maura now, as, despite her pep talk to herself earlier, she found her nerves getting the better of her. Jane's face was a mask of professionalism, a blank canvas that gave nothing away. But her eyes told a different story.

'Captain'.

The single word finally made its way through from Maura's ear to her brain, and she blinked.

'I'm sorry?'

'It's Captain Rizzoli'. Jane gestured to the two silver bars on her collar. 'I got promoted about two years ago'.

But the wry tone of that throaty voice - another thing that hadn't changed - told Maura that Jane wasn't annoyed. In fact, Maura got the impression that she didn't really care one way or the other. The comment had just been a typically-Jane way of trying to break the ice, and she felt her heart slow down a little. Maybe this would be okay after all.

'Sorry'. She smiled, trying to do her bit as well. 'Captain Rizzoli. Congratulations'.

Jane shrugged, still standing stiffly in the doorway. 'It was about time. But thanks'.

Maura nodded, but Jane didn't speak again. Instead she cast her gaze around Maura's office, those eyes lingering over the pot plants, the bookshelves, the designer chair in one corner. And Maura was suddenly unsure as to how to proceed. Should she ask Jane whether she wanted to see the cadet's body? Read the autopsy report? Sign the paperwork?

Should she ask her how she had been, what she had been doing?

Should she do what she had wanted to do for the past five years and apologise?

Trying not to panic, she reasoned that she should perhaps offer her condolences first. After all, Jane might well have known or mentored the cadet who had died, and even if she hadn't, Maura knew that she would still see him as a kind of kin.

'I'm sorry'.

Even to her ears, that had sounded odd. A bit lame. But Jane seemed to get what Maura was talking about, what she meant.

She always had done.

'Thanks. He was a good kid'. Her eyes finished their tour of the office, and came to rest again on its occupant. 'He drowned?'

Maura took that as her cue to get down to business, and she pushed her chair back to stand, giving herself a mental shake and forcing her concentration and focus back to the case in hand. Jane was here for professional reasons. Nothing more.

'Yes'. She picked up a copy of the autopsy report that had been ready on her desk, and walked around to hand it to Jane. 'There was no sign of any third-party involvement. No bruising, no trauma. It's been recorded as a suicide'. She paused. 'The homicide team wasn't able to trace any family'.

Jane nodded as she took the folder from Maura. 'Didn't have any'. She flipped it open and scanned the first page. 'Parents died when he was young. He was brought up by his grandmother, who died when he was sixteen. No brothers or sisters'. She shook her head and, for an instant, a flicker of anguish moved across her face. 'God. What a waste'.

Maura nodded. She guessed, from that, that Jane had known him. She also guessed that the army had become his family, and that the verdict of suicide would hit a lot of his fellow cadets hard. She couldn't claim to know how they would feel. But she could imagine. And it wasn't pleasant.

There was silence for a few moments while Jane moved through the rest of the folder, her face betraying none of her shock and dismay as she looked over the detailed autopsy photographs, x-rays, and lab reports, and Maura moved quietly back to her desk. Sitting down again meant that the table acted as a barrier between her and Jane, and made her feel a bit less exposed, while shifting the papers around on her desk gave her still-shaking hands something to do. Every so often she would glance up at Jane, who continued to stand by the open door and read, and had to repeat the little mantra that she had started when the other woman first came in.  _She's here for professional reasons. Nothing more_.

For some reason, that thought hurt her.

She knew she couldn't justify that feeling. She was the one who had been at fault all those years ago, and she was the one who had failed to apologise. She was the one who had walked away. Yet here, now, she couldn't find the words or the courage to bring up the subject that, to her, was beginning to feel like the big white elephant in the corner of the room.

She realised that a part of her had been hoping that Jane would have both. But, it seemed, Jane did not.

Maura knew that the twinges of rejection and dejection that stabbed at her were unreasonable. She knew it was silly to have hoped, however deep down, that Jane would still be able to read her like a book. And she knew it was selfish to want Jane to make it easier on her. After all, Jane had probably not chosen to come here. She would just have been following someone else's orders and besides, she had a job to do. A job that was incredibly hard.

That thought made Maura feel even worse.

_She's here for professional reasons. Nothing more_.

She waited until Jane was on the last page before speaking, praying that she could put enough backbone into her voice to stop it wavering.

'You can take that copy. Will someone be in touch about releasing the body?'

Jane looked slightly startled as she raised her gaze to meet Maura's, her brown eyes once more communicating everything that she refused to let show on her face. In a flash, Maura could see the sadness, the lingering nerves, the slight hurt at Maura's clipped professionalism. And, suddenly, she couldn't help wondering if Jane had also fretted about what to say, and how to behave. Had Jane felt her heart pound, felt butterflies take off in her stomach as she had approached Maura's basement office? Had she worried over whether to bother with pleasantries, whether to mention Africa, whether to ask if Maura ever thought about what had happened?

Suddenly, Maura realised that she probably had.

'I can do that now'. Jane shut the folder, her tone matching Maura's. 'I'm not heading back until tomorrow, but if everything's cleared then we can get the funeral arrangements underway. So if we can get the paperwork done now...?'

Maura nodded slowly. Jane's meaning was clear. Get the paperwork done, so that the army could have their boy back, and so that Jane could be out of Maura's hair.

Automatically, she stood up and walked over to her filing cabinet, where she kept all the relevant forms. As she opened a drawer and pulled out the sheets of paper, her stomach was tying itself in knots. She felt like screaming. Everything that she wanted to say was threatening to tumble out, but she couldn't seem to force the words past the lumps in her throat, and she still wasn't sure that Jane would want to hear it anyway. The other woman obviously wanted to go.

Maura could feel that second chance slipping away, and she couldn't seem to reach out and catch it.

'Here'. She turned and placed the forms on her desk, while Jane moved across the room and took the pen Maura handed her. 'Sign there...and there'.

Jane scribbled her signature on the lines that Maura had indicated, and carefully placed the pen back on the desk. 'That it?'

Maura nodded. 'Yes. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call. We'll keep the body here until you've made arrangements'.

'I'll sort that today'. Jane straightened up, and, when she looked at Maura, her eyes were unreadable for the first time since she had entered the office. 'Thanks for your help'.

Maura blinked, and swallowed. Every cell in her body was urging her to reach out, physically if she had to, and stop Jane from leaving so soon again, but something stopped her. Pride, maybe. A bullish stubbornness that said if Jane wasn't going to make the effort, then neither was she. And a niggling fear of being pushed away, of Jane confirming that she wanted nothing more to do with Maura and didn't want to revisit old wounds.

'You're welcome'.

It took her a moment to realise that Jane was the one reaching out, her hand outstretched towards Maura with something held in her long fingers. And slowly, Maura reached out and took the small card, careful not to let skin brush skin.

'My cell number and office line at the academy'. Maura looked up from the card to Jane. 'In case you need to contact me about anything else. If something turns up, or there's something we've missed'.

Maura looked back down at the card. The numbers were all there, the right length for a cell number, the right prefix for a New York line. And yet she couldn't quite believe it. Surely she was not going to get a third chance at this?

She slowly looked up at Jane. There was no emotion on the brunette's face but, once again, Maura could see it in her eyes. Jane never had been able to hide it completely.

Something else that hadn't changed.

'Of course'. She tried to keep her voice steady, professional, and from Jane's curt nod, she thought that she had probably succeeded. It wasn't until Jane had left the office, her footsteps receding up the corridor and finally disappearing altogether with the ping of the elevator doors, that Maura allowed herself to sink back down into her chair and release the breath that she felt she had been holding ever since Jane had arrived.

She didn't know how long she sat there. An hour, maybe more. It was only when one of the lab assistants knocked on the still-open door to ask her for something that she roused herself, and forced her mind back to work. Jane had been. And gone.

And left her a lifeline that she was clinging onto, quite literally, as her fingers gripped the card that was now in her jacket pocket and refused to let go.


	3. Chapter 3

Maura kicked off her heels and stood, her coat still on and her purse still slung over her shoulder, her fingers resting on the light switch that would illuminate the spacious kitchen and living area of her home. But, instead of flicking the switch, she looked around her, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as she listened to the silence. It was a silence that she was used to. She came home to it almost every night, and it was familiar, almost comforting. It told her that everything was as it should be, that nothing untoward had occurred while she had been out, and tonight, as usual, it was broken only when she strained her ears to hear the faint sound of the clock ticking in the living area, the low hum of the heating system, the almost-inaudible clicking of the timer that regulated the hot water. Everything was normal, everything was as it should be.

And yet, for some reason, it didn't feel right.

The silence that usually reassured her now felt oppressive and strange and, even when the light bathed the room in a warm, homely glow, she could feel the familiar surroundings begin to unsettle her instead of providing the solace and comfort that they usually did. And it took her a moment to think that perhaps it was because everything was the same. Everything was just as she had left it that morning - the stack of journals on the coffee table that she had yet to read, the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter, the empty coffee cup that she had forgotten to put into the dishwasher that morning. The sweet, fresh scent of the lilies that she had bought a couple of days ago still hung in the air. Her gym bag still sat near the door, placed there deliberately where she could see it, to remind her that it was at least a week since she had been. Nothing had changed...except her.

Since she had left that morning to go to work, she had grown older, if only by a few hours. She had learnt things, she hade experienced things. She wasn't usually one for too much emotion, but she felt like seeing Jane again had sparked something within her. It had made her come alive. She felt elated, terrified, and nervous all at once, and her fingers still kept going to the little card in her pocket as if it was some sort of talisman, a symbol of fate, of destiny - even though the Maura Isles that had left home that morning didn't believe in such things.

Suddenly, the house felt like it belonged to that Maura. This new Maura felt a bit like a trespasser, and, as she stood in the doorway, she felt a sudden yearning to go back, for things to be as they had been just a few hours ago - even though she knew that would be impossible.

Walking over to the kitchen counter, she dropped her purse down on the floor and automatically reached for the coffee cup, placing it carefully into the dishwasher before looking around again, as if making sure that she hadn't left anything else lying around. Seeing nothing, she suddenly felt at a loss. The whole evening seemed to stretch ahead of her, and she had no idea what to do with it. Eating, reading, watching television...it all seemed too ordinary after the day that she had had, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to settle. So instead of trying, she poured herself a glass of wine, shrugged out of her coat, and went through to her bedroom to change out of her work clothes. If she was going to feel restless and on edge, at least she could put on something more comfortable.

Stripping down to her underwear, she carefully hung her jacket and dress in the closet before choosing a pair of loose black yoga pants and a dark grey top. Her bare feet padded on the carpet as she walked back towards the bed, the thick pile soft and luxurious underneath her skin and, as she slipped the silky fabric over her head, she found herself replaying her conversation with Jane for what seemed like the hundredth time. What she had said. What she wished she had said. What Jane had said.

_'I'm not heading back until tomorrow'_.

Jane had said that.

That meant that she was still in Boston tonight.

Maura sat on the edge of her bed, wine glass in hand, staring at the closet where her jacket now hung, the card with Jane's cell number on still in the pocket. The fingers of her free hand tapped on her knee, repeating the same nervous pattern over and over again. To call? Or not to call?

She could think of a hundred reasons why she shouldn't. And only one reason why she should.

She had loved Jane. And she still did.

She had loved her as a friend, as her only friend. And she had begun to love her as something more - something that right now she couldn't define. But, for once, Maura felt like definitions didn't matter.

Suddenly decisive, she placed her glass on the bedside table and stood up. The Maura that had left this room that morning would probably not have done what she was about to do. And, she thought wryly, she maybe shouldn't be doing it after almost a glass of wine on an empty stomach. But anything was better than pacing her house until the sun came up, thinking and worrying and wondering what might have been.

The card firmly in her grip once more, she headed back through to the kitchen and punched the numbers into her cell phone quickly before she could change her mind. Her heart pounded in her ears and her stomach began to tie itself in knots again, but, almost immediately, she heard the ringing stop and a husky voice take its place.

'Rizzoli'.

Maura took a deep breath.

'Jane? It's...' She swallowed. Was this really a good idea?

Even if it wasn't, it was too late now.

'It's Maura'.


	4. Chapter 4

Maura pushed open the door of the coffee shop and paused, letting it swing shut behind her as she pulled off her gloves and scanned the tables slightly anxiously. It was busy, the lunch hour fully underway, and the loud buzz of conversation felt like an assault on her ears after a morning spent in the peace and quiet of her office.

She wasn't there.

Thank God.

Exhaling slowly, she moved to one side to allow a middle-aged man to exit with his take-out coffee, and tucked the gloves into her purse. She had deliberately arrived ten minutes early, wanting time to compose herself before Jane got there, but had suddenly panicked as she had left the morgue. What if Jane had had the same idea, and also arrived early?

Obviously, she hadn't.

Maura joined the end of the short line, and waited patiently to order her coffee - a latte with skim milk. She would wait until Jane arrived for food, although she wasn't sure that she would be able to eat anything. As the hands on her watch ticked slowly but surely around towards twelve-thirty, she felt butterflies awaken in her stomach and, as she paid and carried her cup over to a free table, even the coffee seemed like a bad idea.

The whole thing seemed like a bad idea.

Jane had not sounded surprised to hear from her the evening before. She had not been impatient when Maura had hesitated and stumbled over what to say, and she had not blown Maura off when Maura had asked about meeting socially while Jane was in Boston. On the contrary, lunch had been Jane's suggestion - she had, she explained, been on her way to see her parents when Maura had called, but that she was not leaving until the evening the following day, if Maura could manage to get away for something to eat or a coffee.

Maura had replied that she could get away for both. And so here she was, at the coffee shop just around the corner from the police headquarters, her stomach tying itself in knots again as she wondered what, exactly, she was doing.

She wasn't wondering for very long. She had barely taken the first sip of her coffee when she spotted Jane by the door, doing just what she had done not five minutes before and scanning the room, sharp brown eyes flashing in recognition as they settled on Maura. Maura felt the butterflies in her stomach take flight as Jane smiled, asking with raised eyebrows and a gesture towards the counter if Maura was okay for a drink, and Maura managed to nod, holding up her mug. She watched as Jane moved towards the counter, saw her mouth moving as she ordered, but couldn't hear what she was saying. In Africa, Jane had always said that what she missed most was proper Italian food, and cappuccinos with full fat milk and chocolate sprinkles. Maybe, Maura thought, that's what she was getting.

Discreetly, she watched as Jane waited for her drink. It was the first time that she had ever seen Jane in civilian clothing, and her eyes roamed over the skinny jeans that covered impossibly long legs, the flat boots, and the brown suede jacket. When Jane turned to pick up her mug, Maura could see a flash of a red blouse underneath and, even though she had no idea what Jane usually wore on days off, for some reason she got the impression that the other woman had made an effort.

It had paid off.

Worried that Jane would catch her staring, Maura returned her eyes - but not her attention - to her coffee. She didn't often get coffee out. Not only did she prefer to watch her caffeine intake, but, by her own admission, she was incredibly fussy. The pure-blend ground Ghanian that she put her machine at home had spoilt her for anything else, and she usually stuck to herbal tea when she was out and about. This time, however, she barely registered the quality of the coffee, and she certainly wasn't worrying about not sleeping later that night.

'Hi'.

Maura was startled out of her thoughts - which were running something along the lines of 'she looks completely different with her hair down' - and looked up to see Jane already by the table, setting her mug down and unzipping her jacket.

It was a cappuccino. But...

'No chocolate sprinkles?'

Maura asked before she could help herself, and immediately regretted it. She hadn't meant to make an assumption, or to bring their previous history into the conversation so soon. Hastening to apologise, she only stopped when she saw Jane smiling in surprise.

'You remembered'.

Maura just nodded. She didn't want to embarrass herself even further by saying that she was pretty sure she could remember everything Jane had said to her. The cappuccino with chocolate sprinkles barely scratched the surface.

'So'.

Jane slipped out of her jacket and hung it over the back of the chair opposite Maura, before sitting down and pulling her mug towards her. Maura felt those brown eyes focus on her, and felt the hint of apprehension that they contained. She wasn't sure how to start things off - what to say, what to ask, how to act. And, suddenly, Jane seemed just as unsure as she was.

'So'.

Really, she just wanted to sit and look at Jane for a moment or two, but she had no intention of making Jane more uncomfortable than she already was. And so, with the hollow echo of that one word ringing around their small table, she frantically searched for something to say. Something appropriate.

'How have you...?'

'What are you...?'

They both stopped speaking at the same time, looking at each other for a couple of seconds that seemed like hours, before Jane started laughing and Maura felt her face break into a smile.

'You go first'.

'I was just gonna ask how you've been since...well. Since we last saw each other'. Jane was obviously still nervous and hesitant, but Maura could see the genuine warmth in her gaze, and she felt herself begin to relax slightly.

'Fine'.

It was her reflex response, given automatically whenever anyone asked how she was or how she had been. Usually, that was all people expected. They didn't really want to hear that she hadn't slept well the night before, consumed by memories that she would rather forget. They certainly didn't want to hear that, actually, she had bad period pain, or a headache, or that she was drowning in work. And, usually, she didn't want to elaborate.

It was therefore a few seconds before she realised that Jane was waiting for her to do just that.

'I, uh...' She took a deep breath. 'I've been fine. Good, actually'.

It wasn't strictly a lie, and she crossed the fingers of the hand that was resting on her knee under the table, hoping that the tell-tale red splotches wouldn't start spreading across her neck anyway. Hives always seemed to appear when she tried to lie...so she had found that she had become quite adept at stretching the truth. Anyway, she had been fine. Good, even.

Some of the time.

'Umm-hmm'. Jane paused to take a mouthful of coffee, and made a face. 'You're right, should have got sprinkles. So...how long have you been the Chief?'

'Just a year'. Maura was absurdly relieved that, this time, she didn't have to twist her answer to fit the facts. 'Doctor Pike -the old Chief - retired, and I'd been his assistant for almost three years. I was offered it as a temporary measure, and then it was made permanent six months ago'.

Despite herself, Jane looked impressed.

'And you?' Maura cradled her coffee mug as she looked over at Jane. 'You're at West Point?'

It was stating the obvious, but Jane nodded.

'Two tours of Afghanistan first. Now I'm in the IG's office'.

Maura looked blank.

'Inspector General'.

Jane said it as if it explained everything, as if 'Inspector General' meant more than 'IG', but Maura just raised her eyebrows.

'Troubleshooting. Mediating. Dealing with complaints, breaches of discipline on campus, that kind of thing'. Jane paused. 'Pen pushing'.

'Oh'.

It didn't sound like Jane, somehow, and the resigned, slightly embarrassed look in her eyes as she explained made Maura think that she was right - Jane would far rather be in an active role, despite having already done two tours. But she didn't like to ask. Maybe, she thought, she would get the chance another time.

'And I play on the hockey team'.

Now here, Maura was lost.

'Uh...pitcher?'

Jane blinked, before smiling as she realised - or remembered - that Maura had no clue about sports.

'Attacker. Pitcher's baseball'.

'Oh'.

'Still stuck on yoga, huh?'

It should have sounded derogatory, but coming from Jane it just sounded like another teasing remark, and Maura couldn't help another half-smile as she nodded and shrugged. Not long after they had first met, Jane had asked Maura whether she played any sports, and had teased her mercilessly when she had nodded enthusiastically. In Jane's book, yoga and fencing didn't count.

Maura no longer fenced. But she did still love yoga. It focused her mind, relaxed and strengthened her body, and - usually - left her feeling energised and refreshed. She had tried explaining that to Jane before. She had even demonstrated a few positions, right there by the water distribution point in the camp - much to the surprise and amusement of the women and children queuing for fresh bottled water. But she hadn't succeeded in convincing Jane that it was just as good for the body and mind as baseball or hockey.

It looked as though she never would.

They talked some more, flitting from one topic to another as they slowly finished their coffees. Neither of them thought about food and, once again, Maura could feel the time slipping away. Once again, she didn't want Jane to leave. She didn't want to think that Jane was heading back to New York that evening, and that this might be the last chance she would get. She had relaxed a bit - somehow Jane had always had that effect on her - but not enough to feel completely at ease, and she knew that her tension stemmed from the fact that she had things to say, but not the courage to say them. Wondering how she could broach the subject that they had both been skirting around for the last hour, she barely registered that the conversation had stopped, and that Jane had leaned forward slightly, her hand dangerously close to Maura's on the table top.

'Why did you really ask me to meet you, Maura?'

She couldn't lie. Nor could she fiddle with the truth again...and she found that she didn't really want to. Taking a deep breath, she felt almost absurdly grateful that Jane had done the hard bit for her and, trying to ignore the feeling of those deep brown eyes on her face, she finally said it.

'To apologise'.

Maura felt a twinge of relief as the words left her, but that was immediately replaced by a slight panic as she saw the look of total confusion on Jane's face.

'Apologise?'

Maura swallowed. 'To say...I wanted to say sorry'.

'Yeah, I got that bit...but why?' Jane's were brows knitted together, the questioning look still fixed on Maura. 'I haven't seen you in years for you to do anything wrong'.

'Exactly'. Maura met Jane's eyes. 'And you should have. What happened...it shouldn't have happened, and it's my fault'.

Jane didn't reply for a moment, and Maura could feel her panic rising. It was only then that she realised just how much she wanted Jane back in her life again. For five years, she had missed Jane. And she didn't want to hear that Jane had moved on, and that she had no space in her life for Maura any more. Really, though, Maura thought as she reached for her purse, she didn't deserve anything more.

But she had hoped. And she couldn't face the prospect of having that hope shattered.

'It doesn't matter'. She could no longer look at Jane as she pulled her coat from the back of her chair. 'I should really be getting back anyway. Thank you for coming, it was good to...'

She stooped abruptly as she felt Jane's hand on her arm. The brunette was reaching across the table, her touch preventing Maura from leaving, her face registering concern, and still the confusion, and something else that Maura couldn't quite place.

'Hey'. Jane's voice was soft, but commanding. 'Don't run away, Maura. Apologise for what?'

Maura felt like she was suspended in motion, with one hand on her purse, the other still gripping the sleeve of her coat, perched on the edge of her chair as if she was about to get up. Which she had been. But now Jane didn't want Maura to leave, and the touch of her hand was sending tingles down Maura's spine, and Maura couldn't think.

She could only blurt it all out.

'For treating you the way I did. You saved my life by making me leave the camp in Africa, and I cut you off for it. I blamed you for something...I don't even know what. I thought I could have saved more lives if I'd stayed, and you stopped me doing that. I was stupid, and selfish, and I was awful to you, and I'm sorry. And I wanted to see if there was any way you might let me back into your life again, because I've missed you'.

She had to pause to take a breath, but, when she raised her eyes, the shocked, astounded look on Jane's face prevented her from starting to speak again. Looking down, she noticed that Jane's hand had slid off her arm and was resting on the table, leaving her free to move if she wanted to. But she found that she didn't. Couldn't. So she just sat there, half on and half off her chair, waiting for Jane to say something. Waiting for Jane to tell her whether to leave or to stay.

Finally Jane blinked, and spoke. But her voice was so soft that Maura had to strain to hear it over the noise around them, and she wasn't sure that she heard correctly.

'You don't need to be sorry. I do'.

Now it was Maura's turn to look confused.

'What for?'

'You know what for'. Jane closed her eyes for a moment, and, suddenly, Maura did know. She knew what Jane was seeing, and she realised that Jane had suffered the same guilt over leaving that she had. Jane was seeing the same faces that she still saw sometimes at night, and was having the same, horrible doubt over whether she - they - could have made any difference.

This time, it was Maura who reached across the table, Maura's fingers that gently curled around Jane's hand. And she saw, in the flicker that crossed Jane's eyes, that despite everything they were talking about, Jane had felt that same tingle at the touch.

'Do you still think about them?'

Jane's voice was barely more than a whisper, but this time Maura had no difficulty in hearing her, and she nodded.

'Yes'. She paused, watching that sink slowly in. 'But you saved my life, Jane. If I'd stayed, I wouldn't be here now'.

She wasn't prepared for Jane's reply.

'Neither of us would be'.

* * *

_'Maura, you have to pack. Now'._

_Maura looked around her, hearing the quiet urgency in Jane's voice but not quite able to take it in. All the beds in the "emergency room" were full, and more patients were queuing down the narrow hallway that led outside. Some were standing, some were squatting on the floor. Most had family with them, which just added to the crowding and general sense of confusion that was a permanent feature of this part of the hospital. She and her colleagues were rushed off their feet. They always were. And all of these people - every single one of them - needed her help._

_'I can't leave, Jane'._

_There had been rumours for days that the rebels were approaching the area. No one was really sure what to believe, and so no one had really been sure what to do. Information was patchy, at best, and while some people had packed up what belongings they had and left, most had stayed. Some were sick, and couldn't move. Some had family members who were sick, and wouldn't leave them._

_Others just felt like they had nowhere else to go._

_Up until that point, Maura hadn't been sure what to believe either. But Jane's arrival at the hospital had been unexpected; the grave, determined expression on her face even more so. Even in the worst situations, Maura had never seen her look so...serious. So commanding. Suddenly, she didn't look like Maura's friend._

_'You don't have a choice'._

_Jane didn't sound like Maura's friend, either. Maura had never heard that note of steel in the husky voice before. She had certainly never heard it directed at her, and it took her momentarily by surprise. Even if the rumours were true, surely Jane would see that she couldn't just up and leave?_

_'Of course I do'. She gestured around the room, down the hallway. 'If you've been ordered to leave, then you have to leave. But I'm staying. I can't just abandon all these people'._

_And by that, she meant her colleagues as well._

_She felt Jane's hand grip her arm. It wasn't a soft touch, as it had been the evening before. Then, they had been laughing over one of Jane's family stories, this time involving her brother Tommy and a fairground goldfish. Maura was never sure whether Jane's tales were true or not, or whether Jane exaggerated and embellished to make them more entertaining - but if she did, Maura didn't mind. They always made her smile. And last night, she had needed that. A hard day had been made better by Jane's words, Jane's laughter. Jane's touch._

_Now, that same touch was making a hard day worse._

_'Maura'. Jane's voice hinted that she would not take any more arguing. 'Get upstairs. Pack your things. There's a Jeep leaving for the airport in fifteen minutes, and we're going to be in it'._

_'But...'_

_Jane's grip tightened. 'Listen to me. You're a woman. A foreigner. You will stand out like a sore thumb. At best, you'll be raped and left for dead, at worst you'll be killed outright. And the embassy cannot help you if you choose to stay. Understand?'_

_Maura just stood there, the emergency ward swirling around her, trying to take in everything Jane was saying. It sounded so unreal. Those kinds of things happened to other people on the television. She saw those kinds of things on the news...but they never happened to her. To people like her. And, she thought, Jane had got it wrong. To be killed outright would actually, in her opinion, be the better alternative._

_And yes. She did understand. If she chose to stay, she would lose all diplomatic protection. Her embassy wouldn't be able to help her. She would effectively be stranded until she could get herself to safety...if it came to that._

_It might not._

_Did she want to take that chance?_

_'Jane, I...'_

_She was cut off by the harsh tone of Jane's next words. 'Do it, or I'll do it for you. I've been ordered to get American citizens out of here. I don't disobey orders. If I have to throw you into that Jeep myself, I'll do it'._

_Maura stood in stunned silence, forcing herself to breathe. She could tell that Jane meant every word. Looking down at the hand that still gripped her arm, she pushed away the thought that, only last night, she had imagined those fingers doing something entirely different. She heard Jane's voice again, softer this time, but she couldn't make out the words and she wasn't about to ask Jane to repeat it. Instead, she steeled herself to look up, and willed her own voice to stay steady. Unemotional._

_Like Jane had never been her friend at all._

_'I can't go and pack until you let me go'._

_Jane didn't reply, but slowly let her hand drop from Maura's arm. Spinning on her heel, Maura walked away. Out of the ward, back up the stairs, her teeth gritted so that she wouldn't cry. She didn't want to have to go back down with a red and blotchy face for all the world to see._

_For Jane to see._

_She never turned round, so she didn't see Jane's commanding face relax into a hurt, anguished grimace. She didn't see Jane run one hand over her face, shaking her head to herself, before she too walked out of the ward._

_She didn't speak to Jane again._

* * *

It was only now, five years later in a noisy coffee shop, that Maura realised what Jane had said, what those words had been that she hadn't registered at the time.

'I'm not leaving without you'.

She heard Jane repeating them now - 'Neither of us would be. I wouldn't have left without you' - but the words rang round in her head as the rest of the coffee shop faded into the background. Jane wouldn't have left her.

She had cared.

And the tightening of Jane's fingers around hers told her that, despite the time and distance that had been put between them, Jane still did care.

More than she could say.


	5. Chapter 5

_I've been a bit slower (ok...a lot slower) in updating this story than I anticipated, and as a result we're a bit out of sync - this chapter should actually have been posted 2 or 3 weeks ago, around Thanksgiving. For various reasons - Christmas working hours, a sudden death in the family - I haven't had much time to write or to post, so I'm sorry about that. I'll do my best to catch up with myself, and at least get the next chapter posted before Christmas!_

_This is a bit of a 'filler' chapter, but a necessary one. I know this story is much more of a slow-burn than others I've written, but I promise we are getting somewhere, and there's plenty more to come! Hope you enjoy :)._

* * *

Maura shivered, and tucked her hands further down into her pockets. Despite her winter attire - padded coat, warm hat and gloves, fur-lined boots - the freezing wind seemed to slice its way through to her core, mercilessly seeking out any tiny chink in her armour and turning exposed flesh numb with cold. Waves crashed on the shore, sending a fine mist into the air that settled on Maura's face whenever she walked too close to the water-line, ignoring the warning cries of the gulls that wheeled overhead. The rest of the beach was deserted. Ahead of her, Maura could see the expanse of sand giving way to the rocky outcrops where she usually turned around, exactly three miles from where she had left her car. She knew, because she had done this walk several times before. But today she didn't want to stop walking. Her eyes were watering, and her nose was running, and her cheeks were frozen in the wind, but she didn't feel ready to go back just yet.

In the months following her return from Africa, Maura had often come here. On those days that she was not working, and was not on call, she had found herself drawn to the ocean, to the bleak emptiness of the beach in winter. She had gone when she needed space not to think, or to reason, or to make decisions, but to just be. And she had gone when she needed to feel small. When she needed more than anything to feel that what had happened to her wasn't as big or as terrible as it seemed - when she needed to see that, despite everything, the tide still turned and the waves still rolled. The vastness of the ocean had humbled her and, for a few precious hours, had reduced her and her memories to grains of sand.

Now she was here again.

It had been four days since she had seen Jane - four days in which she had not been able to get the brunette out of her mind. Snatches of their conversation kept replaying themselves in her head; small, throw-away confessions from Jane that had made her realise that she had not been the only one to struggle.

She had not been the only one to be scared, nor the only one to be stubborn.

_'I wrote to you'._

_Maura was confused. She didn't think that she had ever given Jane her email address._

_'I mean a letter'. Jane smiled, looking slightly embarrassed as she tried to make out that it hadn't been a big deal. 'Your address wasn't that hard to find'._

_A good, old-fashioned, snail mail letter. Maura couldn't imagine it, somehow._

_'I never got a letter'._

_'I never sent it'. Jane looked down, fiddling with the hem on her shirt. 'I, uh...I didn't see the point'._

But Maura had understood. Part of Jane hadn't wanted to make it easier for her, and that same part hadn't wanted Maura to read about her pain through words on a page. That part of her had wanted Maura to feel it.

And Maura couldn't blame her.

On impulse, she had asked Jane if she still had the letter. She didn't know quite what had come over her - a wave of Dutch courage, perhaps, brought on by too much coffee - and she had certainly not expected the answer to be yes. Jane had kept it. To be more precise, she had kept them, since she had written more than once. Maura had just nodded. She hadn't asked what was in them, or why Jane had felt the need to keep them. But now she wondered if she would ever be able to read them, whether Jane would let her.

She wondered if she really wanted to.

She had been so deep in her thoughts that she hadn't realised that she was now at the rocks. They were slick with spray from the ocean and, even in her sturdy boots, she didn't particularly want to start clambering over them. Realising that she would have to turn around, she stood for a moment, letting the freezing, salty air sting her already-red cheeks. In a painful kind of way, it felt good.

There, on the deserted beach, she felt like she could finally admit that it was not just Jane's conversation that she couldn't get out of her mind. It was the way Jane had looked. Jane's smile. Jane's long brown hair that Maura had instinctively wanted to run her fingers through.

It was Jane's touch.

Her fingers had left Maura's skin tingling, almost aching for more. Even holding hands across the table, as friends comforting each other - if they could call themselves friends now - had sent a delicious little shiver down her spine. It hadn't surprised her; she had known that her attraction to the other woman hadn't faded. But it had shocked her when, looking up at Jane's face, she had seen it written there as well.

When they had left the coffee shop, Maura hadn't known quite what to do, how to wrap things up. Just saying goodbye and walking away seemed wrong, somehow. Shaking Jane's hand was far too formal. Air kissing...Jane would probably just laugh. Standing on the sidewalk, with Jane about to head in the opposite direction, Maura had once more begun to panic a little. And once more it had been Jane who had reached out. The hug that Maura had found herself enveloped in had been slightly awkward, as if Jane had been trying to pull her as close as possible before realising that more bodily contact was maybe not such a good idea. But it had been enough for Maura to feel Jane's hair brush her cheek, and to feel the warmth of Jane's face next to hers.

She had tried not to think about it too much at the time. Now, she couldn't think of much else.

Jane had asked if they could keep in touch. Speak on the phone. Meet up again. Maura had been only too happy to agree, but they hadn't made any firm plans. And, aside from a text message to say that she was back at West Point safely, Maura hadn't heard from Jane at all...although she hadn't really expected to, not yet. So the buzz of her cell phone, vibrating through the layers of her coat pocket with an incoming message, took her by surprise.

_Hi, you okay? Wondering if you've got plans next w'end...call me? J._

Next weekend. Thanksgiving. Maura, as usual, had no plans apart from work. She had always worked the holidays, so that her colleagues with families could enjoy the time off, and she had just assumed that this year would be no different. She wondered why Jane was asking. Perhaps, she thought, as she pulled off her glove with her teeth in order to type a reply, Jane was coming back to Boston to spend the weekend with her family. A warm glow spread through her at the thought. Maybe they might be able to manage another coffee.

_I'm fine, but on the beach - call later? M._

Jane's answer came almost immediately.

_Beach? Are you crazy? Sure, call me later. J._

As she put the phone back into her pocket and pulled her glove back on, Maura felt a smile spread across her face. She probably was crazy, being on the beach in this weather. And she was now very, very cold. But somehow that didn't matter. Sticking her hands back into her pockets, she set off back down the beach, walking at a brisk pace to try and get some feeling back into her toes...and to try and get home that little bit quicker.

She really wanted to hear Jane's voice.


	6. Chapter 6

_This will be the last update until the New Year, so I hope everyone has a lovely Christmas!_

_Oh! And I had an early Christmas present this morning - my other story 'Sugar and Spice' won Best Fluff in the Rizzles Fan Fiction Awards! A massive THANK YOU to everyone who read it, liked it, and voted - it really means a lot. It's one of my favourite stories that I've written, so I'm so happy that other people have enjoyed it too!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter - see you in the New Year!_

* * *

'So'. Jane's brown eyes twinkled at her from underneath a bright red bobble hat. 'You've never done this before?'

Maura took a deep breath, and shook her head. When Jane had suggested going ice skating one evening over the long weekend, she had agreed immediately without even really considering what she was agreeing to...although Jane could have suggested a football game followed by beer and burgers, and Maura would probably have agreed. She had just been so delighted to hear that Jane was coming back to Boston for Thanksgiving, and wanted to see her. But now, by the side of the rink at the Frog Pond, she wasn't so sure. She felt like she was kitted out for the Arctic, and was so well padded that she could barely walk. But even so, she could foresee all kinds of disasters. Cuts and bruises. Broken limbs. Frostbite.

Total, mortal embarrassment.

'It's easy', Jane was saying as she sat down on a bench and started pulling a skate on. 'Once you get the balance right'.

Maura didn't say that getting the balance right was exactly what she was worried about. Instead, she sat down next to Jane and held up her own hired skates. They looked terrifyingly sharp, and she grimaced as a sudden, vivid image of severed fingers popped into her mind. It was completely at odds with the laughing, happy voices and twinkling lights that surrounded her, and she wondered whether maybe, just maybe, she had been spending too long at work.

'You okay?'

She turned to see that Jane had already laced up her second skate, and was waiting for her to do the same. And, despite her misgivings over what lay ahead, she couldn't help but return the wide, slightly questioning smile that was directed her way.

'Fine. Sorry'.

As she bent over to put the skates on, Maura felt Jane's eyes on her. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't one she was used to either. Fumbling with the laces, it took her two goes to lace the right one up properly before turning her attention to the left, and she told herself not to be silly. But somehow, under Jane's gaze, she felt like she was turning from a grown woman out with a friend for the evening into a flustered, blushing schoolgirl with a crush.

She really hoped that Jane hadn't noticed.

'Ready?'

Maura checked her skates one more time. They were securely fastened, reasonably comfortable, and not quite as terrifying on her feet as they had been in her hand. 'Ready'.

She soon realised that the first hurdle was not finding her balance on the ice, but getting to the ice in the first place. Walking in ice skates was not as easy as it looked, even for the few steps it took to reach the rink, and she was quite proud of herself for not ending up face down before she'd even started. Placing one foot gingerly onto the ice, she gasped as she felt the skate start to slide. She would never be able to do this.

'Here'.

She felt Jane's hand on her arm, gripping her securely as she wobbled her way fully onto the ice, and the touch almost made her gasp again. It was natural, she supposed. Jane could skate, she couldn't. Jane was just trying to help her out in staying upright until she got the hang of it. She could hardly say that it was actually making her even more shaky, and that she would probably be better off holding onto the side of the rink until she found some sort of balance. So she smiled, and nodded her thanks, and let Jane lead.

It actually wasn't as bad as she had feared. She didn't fall over straight away, thanks largely to Jane keeping hold of her arm and, after a couple of circuits, she found that she was beginning to get into a rhythm, and find her own balance. After a couple more, she felt Jane's hand move from her arm. Obviously she had been doing well enough for Jane to be confident that she wouldn't topple over, and she was already missing the contact when Jane looked over, smiled, and slipped the hand into hers instead.

'See? It's easy'.

It was easy. So easy to go from being a complete beginner on the ice to being a sort-of novice. Even easier to make the subtle shift from holding the arm of a friend to holding the hand of a date. Gliding around the rink, feeling Jane's warmth even through her glove, Maura couldn't help laughing out loud at how unexpectedly easy it all was. She lost count of the number of circuits they had made, of how long they had been out there. She felt like she never wanted it to end. She didn't want to stop skating, didn't want to leave the ice because if she did, Jane would have to let go of her hand and everything would go back to the way it was before.

'Drink?'

It startled Maura, and she jumped slightly. Turning around quickly to look at Jane made her almost lose her balance, and it was only Jane's hand, firm in hers, that kept her upright.

'Whoa'. Jane laughed as she gripped Maura tighter, her hand moving back up Maura's arm. 'I was only offering a hot chocolate. Nothing to get excited about'. She gestured towards the small cafe, where there were a few people queuing for hot drinks and snacks in between skating sessions. Maura looked over and nodded, hoping that the blush she could feel creeping up her neck wasn't visible.

'That sounds nice'.

When she turned her head back towards Jane, she saw that the brunette was smiling at her. It was a gentle, indulgent smile that made Maura warm all over, all the way down to her thermally-insulated toes, and she couldn't quite believe that it was directed at her.

But she soon had to push thoughts of Jane's smile away as they drew nearer and nearer to the entrance to the rink.

'Uh, Jane?'

'Yeah?'

'How do I stop?'

She answered her own question by reaching out for the barrier with her free hand, suddenly panicking that they had reached the entrance to the rink and that if she didn't use the barrier to stop herself, she would sail straight through as if she had reached the top of an escalator. She had avoided falling over so far. She didn't want to start now.

It worked. Even through her padding, she thought she would probably have a bruise on her hip, but at least she was no longer moving. Jane had managed to do it a little more elegantly, and she grinned as Maura gingerly moved back onto normal ground.

'Like that'.

Maura reclaimed their place on the bench as Jane quickly unlaced her skates and went to queue for hot chocolate. Once again she found herself watching the brunette, just as she had done in the cafe, hoping that Jane wouldn't notice but unable to take her eyes away. And, once again, she couldn't help thinking that Jane was gorgeous. The red bobble hat suited her, her dark hair tumbling in waves from underneath it, and her cheeks had a rosy glow from the cold. Even the warm sweatpants she was wearing looked good - somehow, Jane managed to make them stylish.

Sexy.

'Here'.

Maura turned, a little guiltily, and hoped that her thoughts weren't written all over her face as she accepted the cup of steaming hot chocolate from Jane.

'Thank you'.

Jane settled down next to her on the bench, and Maura surveyed the ice as she sipped her drink. It was busy now - although she supposed that, on the Saturday of the Thanksgiving weekend, that was only to be expected - and they didn't have their bench to themselves for very long. Jane had to shift up to make room for a young couple who had just come off the rink, and Maura almost choked on her chocolate as she felt a leg press against hers.

'Have you worked all weekend?'

Maura swallowed, and quickly tried to cover her reaction to Jane's proximity and concentrate on the question. Weekend. Work.

'Yes'. She nodded. 'It wasn't that busy really. I caught up on some paperwork and emails, and I have some things to finish off tomorrow'.

'Tomorrow?' Jane's eyebrows were raised, and Maura shrugged. She didn't want to admit that she had nothing better to do on a holiday Sunday, but she suspected that Jane already knew that. So instead of admitting it outright, she asked a question of her own.

'You've been at your parents'?'

Jane nodded, and rolled her eyes. 'Yeah. Less said, the better'.

But Maura could see the affection that flashed across Jane's face, and felt a slight stab of envy. She had no family nearby. In fact, as far as she knew she had no family in the country. The last she had heard, her mother was in Italy, catching up with some old friends while her father closed yet another business deal in Madrid. Or maybe it was Paris. Maura lost track sometimes...and it wasn't as if she heard from them regularly.

She had to admit, though, that she didn't make the effort to contact them very much either. They didn't really understand her life and the choices she had made. And, as a mature teenager, she had discovered that she didn't really understand theirs. On those rare occasions when she did see them, it was often awkward. Stilted. It was best left alone.

But sometimes Maura wished things were different. She liked to think that, had her mother been a different mother - a different person - they would have spent the weekend together and Maura could have told her all about Jane. She could have confided the buzz she got whenever she saw her, the tingle that she felt whenever Jane touched her, and how she thought about her constantly. She could have wondered aloud whether what she was feeling was the deep attraction that she thought it was, and she could have asked whether it was okay to feel that towards another woman, because she never had before. In this little fantasy, Maura had a caring mother and a best friend all rolled into one, but she knew that it would never happen. So she couldn't help the pang of jealousy as Jane, despite her declaration that it was best forgotten, proceeded to tell her all about the weekend at the Rizzoli family home.

Maura didn't have a family home, and probably never would.

'According to Pa, Thanksgiving is the biggest toilet day of the year - you know he's a plumber, right? It even beats Christmas. So while he's sulking that he hasn't had a call-out yet, Ma decides that it would be a good idea to ask Tommy to carve the turkey instead of Pa, but...' Jane paused to take a breath, and to grimace slightly as the couple sharing their bench began to kiss. Maura could feel her trying to shift up a little bit more, but there was nowhere to go. Maura couldn't move up any further, or she would have fallen off the end of the bench, and so Jane just ended up pressed even more closely against her. It made trying to follow Jane's story very difficult.

'...Tommy had already had a few by then, and Frankie decided it wasn't safe for him to be waving a carving knife around...you okay?'

Maura started as she realised Jane was asking her.

'Fine'. She managed a smile. 'Carry on'.

'So in the argument that followed, someone let slip that none of us actually like turkey anyway, and that we'd all prefer Ma's gnocchi. She started yelling at us for not saying so before, Pa's still complaining about there being no plumbing emergencies, Tommy's accusing Frankie of calling him a drunk, Frankie's yelling at Tommy for being lazy...' She shrugged. 'Typical, really. We ended up having gnocchi with the turkey, and I carved'.

Despite herself, Maura had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

'And your father?'

'Got a call out halfway through dessert'. But Jane's grin faded a little as she looked at Maura. Her brown eyes looked dark and intense in the artificial glow of the lights, and, as much as a part of Maura wanted to turn away, to take the last mouthful of her chocolate and think of something to say - anything would do - she found that she couldn't. And just as she began to wonder, heart pounding, whether Jane was actually going to kiss her, she felt Jane's finger ever so lightly graze the side of her mouth where she had been biting her bottom lip.

'You look adorable when you do that'.

Maura couldn't reply. She couldn't think. It was all she could do to remember to breathe. There was no kiss. But the brief skin-to-skin contact left her shaking.

Adorable.

It wasn't a word that had ever been used to describe her before.

'You want another go?'

It took Maura a few seconds to realise that Jane was gesturing towards the rink. That look in her brown eyes had gone, and Maura took a deep, trembling breath. Maybe it was just as well. A busy ice rink was hardly the place and, given Jane's eye-rolling reaction to the couple next to them, she had probably thought the same thing. So Maura nodded, and smiled. She might have even managed a proper reply. But she was in a bit of a daze as she tightened the laces on her skates again, and threw her empty cup into the trash before following Jane back onto the ice.

Was it her imagination, or was Jane holding onto her hand more tightly than before? She didn't really need the support now, but Jane was skating close, her gloved fingers intertwined with Maura's as she led them diagonally across the rink and round. They chatted and laughed and joked as they skated, although, later, Maura couldn't have said what their conversation was about. She would remember that hour as like an impressionist painting rather than a clear sketch. A blurred picture of fun, and lights, and warmth despite the cold, and her hand in Jane's, and the faint tingle that remained where Jane had touched her. She would remember the vague feeling of anticipation, of excitement and terror at what might happen when they left the rink and had to say goodbye again, and the worry over what, exactly, she should do if Jane didn't do anything. Follow Jane's lead, as she had been doing all evening? Or do what she wanted to do, and kiss her anyway?

In the end, it was easy.

They had handed their skates back in and were heading across the Common, away from the rink, when Maura felt Jane's hand slip into hers again. Involuntarily, she shivered - it was the touch, not the frosty air, but Jane looked her, concern on her face.

'You cold?'

Maura shook her head, but, as she did so, Jane let go of her hand and moved her arm so that it was round Maura's shoulders, pulling her close as they continued to walk. Long dark hair brushed Maura's cheek, and she could feel the warmth from Jane's body even through all her layers. Her heart pounding, she realised that they were heading towards Charles Street, where she had left her car...and which was in the opposite direction to Park Street, where Jane had got off the subway.

'Uh, Jane?'

Jane slowed to a stop, her arm still around Maura.

'Yeah?'

She didn't want to say that Jane was going the wrong way, because she didn't really want Jane to leave. And besides, she guessed that Jane knew fine well that there was no subway near this side of the Common, which meant that Jane had come this way for a reason. But she didn't quite know how to ask what that reason was. So she kept it simple, and hoped that Jane would know what she meant.

'Subway'.

Maura forced herself to turn and meet Jane's gaze.

'I mean, you're going the wrong way for...'

She registered the flicker of a smile before she was cut off again, this time by Jane's finger gently, but firmly, over her lips.

'I know. I was gonna walk you to your car and then head back over'.

Maura blinked. The rush of warmth she felt at Jane's words was totally unexpected and didn't have anything to do with Jane's touch - at least, she didn't think it did. It was more the protective note in the other woman's voice.

She tried to speak but, because of Jane's finger still over her mouth, it came out as more of a mumble.

'You don't have to...'

Jane pressed down a little harder. 'I know'. She paused, and let her finger slide to the corner of Maura's mouth. 'I want to'.

And before Maura could take advantage of Jane moving her hand, and say that she really appreciated it, but she would be fine and she didn't want Jane to have to walk all the way back to Park Street by herself...before she could say that if Jane really insisted, then the least Maura could do would be to give her a lift home...Jane's lips brushed where her finger had been, soft and light as a feather, and this time Maura did forget how to breathe. For a second, everything seemed to stop. She couldn't think, and she couldn't speak. Even the hard, rapid beat of her heart against her ribs seemed to pause before resuming pounding even harder and faster than before. Jane's hand was firm on her back, holding her close as if Jane was afraid she would run, and she saw the slight flicker of uncertainty in Jane's eyes before it disappeared, replaced by the same dark, intense look she had seen back at the ice rink.

It was instinct, rather than any kind of rational thought, that made Maura reach up and rest her own hand on Jane's cheek. She didn't think about what she was doing when she closed her eyes and pressed her mouth against Jane's. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, and all she was aware of was the softness and warmth of Jane's lips as she responded, the faint taste of chocolate, and the way that Jane fit so perfectly against her. She felt herself being pulled closer, Jane's other arm sliding around her waist, and gasped as a rush of heat swept through her. She had never kissed - or been kissed - like that before. She had never experienced something that left her trembling, tingling all over, desperate to pull back and breathe and yet so desperate for more. More of Jane's lips, more of Jane's touch...more of everything. She had never before felt like she didn't want it to end.

She had never thought a kiss could feel so right.


	7. Chapter 7

Four thirty-two AM.

Maura sighed, and rolled over in bed. The digits of the clock shone brightly in the darkness of her bedroom, and she wondered how she had never noticed before how disturbing they were. Even when she turned over, away from the nightstand, there was still a faint red glow that she could see out of the corner of her eye, and she made a mental note to get rid of that clock and buy a different one. One that wasn't as bright as a nightlight.

But perhaps, she thought as she shifted a little, trying to work out a bump in the pillow, that was unfair. She had never noticed the clock before. Her insomnia was probably down to the fact that her mind was whirring, full of questions without answers, and worries that were probably without foundation. And one person was at the centre of it all.

Jane.

It was five and a half hours since she had said goodbye to Jane after their evening ice skating. Three hundred and thirty minutes, and counting, during which she should have floated home on cloud nine and then fallen blissfully asleep. Instead, she had been wide awake and fretting, all over one tiny little word.

No.

Maura had never wanted to stop kissing Jane. She hadn't cared that they were in the middle of Boston Common on a Saturday night, but a good-natured wolf whistle from a group of passing teenagers seemed to have brought Jane back down to earth. She had gently pulled away, smiling, and taken Maura's hand to continue walking her to her car. Once again, she had refused to allow Maura to drive her home, saying that it would mean a detour of over half an hour, but Maura had insisted on at least driving her back round to the subway. It meant she had a little bit longer before she had to say goodbye - something that she really didn't want to do.

It was only when she had pulled over by the sidewalk, outside the subway station, that it had occurred to her that she might not have to. And so, with her heart pounding, words catching in her throat, she had very quietly asked if Jane wanted to just come back to hers. It was nearer, she had explained, and she had a spare bedroom. It would save Jane a trip back across town in the dark and the cold.

That hadn't fooled either of them.

Jane's answer had been no. A gentle no, but a no nonetheless. And although Maura had nodded and smiled, accepting it without question and pretending that she understood, it had sent her into a tailspin of self-doubt that had just got worse as she drove home. By the time she had pulled up outside her house, she was convinced that somehow she had messed up completely, and that their kiss had changed Jane's mind about her. Maybe, she thought, Jane had decided that it wasn't for her. That Maura wasn't for her. Maybe she hadn't felt the same spark that Maura had when their lips met.

Maybe Jane hadn't felt like she had just kissed her soulmate.

Or maybe Maura had just been a rubbish kisser.

Those thoughts had stayed with her through the small hours of the morning, keeping her awake and tossing and turning. She had got up around two to make herself a cup of soothing camomile tea, but it hadn't helped. She had even taken an opthalmic journal back to bed, figuring that if she was awake anyway she might as well try and catch up on some reading, but she couldn't concentrate. All she could think of was Jane, and what she might have done wrong that had scared her off. Eventually, she had given up on the journal and turned out the light, but now, an hour or so later, the darkness seemed to envelope her, magnifying all her negative thoughts until she couldn't stand it any longer. Turning back over, she stared for a long moment at the clock before turning the bedside light back on.

Four fifty-three.

Glaring at the remains of the camomile tea, Maura pushed back the covers and got up, her bare feet padding on the thick carpet as she made her way over to the en suite bathroom. She had no chance of getting to sleep now, so, she thought, she might as well head into work. No one would be there to disturb her, but being alone in her office was better than being alone in her bedroom, where the empty side of the bed just served as a constant, cold reminder that fuelled all her worries and fears. At least in her office she would have a change of scene, a different atmosphere. And the security guard had seen plenty of strange things in his time. The Chief Medical Examiner arriving at her office at six in the morning of Thanksgiving Sunday wouldn't even warrant a bat of the eyes.

As she turned on the shower and waited for the water to run hot, she decided that she didn't really care if it did.

* * *

By ten thirty, Maura was just about ready to give up. She had arrived at work at seven minutes past six, after treating herself to an extra-long shower and a cinnamon bagel that had been salvaged from the depths of her freezer. As predicted, the security guard hadn't remarked on her being in so early - in fact, he had barely spoken at all, and Maura guessed that he was a little pissed off at having to work the holiday weekend. At six-fifteen, she had been settled in her office and had opened the first of three reports that she wanted to finish, but four hours later she was still working on the same one. Her mind kept wandering back to Jane. And, this time, it wasn't just the doubt and the anxiety that plagued her.

It was a feeling that she could only describe as sexual frustration.

Kissing Jane had been like nothing else she had ever experienced. It had been warm, comfortable, somehow completely right in a way that nothing had ever been before. To Maura, kissing had always been something to get through before the main event, which in turn had usually been a purely physical act to meet a purely physical need. At least, she had always thought of it that way. There had never been any emotion involved, and she had always been quite happy to say goodbye in the morning. And on those occasions when she couldn't be bothered with company, she hadn't missed the foreplay.

It was only now that she realised she had, perhaps subconsciously, been looking for something different.

But besides that, it had turned her on in a way that she hadn't been expecting. The rush of heat through her body as Jane's lips moved against hers had taken her by surprise, and she had wanted more. Much more. And try as she might to ignore it, or deny it, or both, she knew that she still did. The faint heat in her cheeks, and the slight throbbing in between her legs when she thought about what might have happened had Jane agreed to come home with her was proof of that.

She wasn't sure what was worse - this, or the constant self-doubt and gnawing fear of earlier.

In an effort to shake herself out of it and, ironically, to get herself in a frame of mind to actually work, Maura clicked onto the internet. A bit of online shopping usually did wonders for her mood, which could only help her concentration and ability to focus on work rather than Jane. Telling herself that if it worked, and if she subsequently managed to get all her reports finished, she would treat herself to a Chinese takeaway for dinner later.

She might even get up the courage to phone Jane.

She did genuinely need some new jeans, and, clicking onto various websites that she had bought from in the past, she began to compare prices and colours and fitting guidelines. It didn't take her too long to find a pair that she liked, but she couldn't face the thought of the reports just yet. And so it wasn't jeans that she was browsing when she had heard a familiar voice behind her.

'Nice'.

Maura spun around in her chair, her eyes wide as she looked up at Jane. The brunette was peering appreciatively over her shoulder at the pale lilac bra and panty set that was filling the computer screen, and Maura suddenly felt hot with embarrassment.

'It's not...I mean, I'm not...how did you...'

She gave up trying to form a sentence, and simply gazed at the take-out cup that Jane was putting down on the corner of her desk.

'Well', the brunette drawled as she perched next to the cup, 'you said you'd be working today. And I wanted to see you. So I thought I'd bring you a coffee and maybe drag you out for something to eat. The security guard recognised me from the other day, and let me in'.

Maura blinked a couple of times, struggling to take it all in. Jane was here, in her office, completely unexpectedly. Jane had brought her coffee, and wanted to take her for something to eat.

Jane had wanted to see her.

After a night of no sleep, after worrying and fretting and becoming convinced that Jane was no longer interested...Jane wanted to see her.

'I like the colour'.

'What?' For a few seconds, Maura had no idea what Jane was talking about. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her, and she was feeling slow, and a bit sluggish. It was only when Jane smirked at the computer screen that she remembered.

'Oh'. She hadn't thought it was possible for her cheeks to get any redder...but, it seemed, she had been wrong. 'It's...uh...'

She moved to close the screen, but Jane's hand on top of hers stopped her.

'You should get them'.

Maura had to swallow hard to keep from gasping. Quite apart from the sensations that Jane's touch was sending through her, she couldn't quite believe that Jane was looking at lingerie with her in mind.

'They'd look gorgeous'.

Maura steeled herself, and looked up. Those dark brown eyes were fixed on her, and a hint of amusement at Maura's reaction was playing about her lips. But that quickly faded as she saw the expression on Maura's face.

'You okay?'

Maura gave herself a mental shake, and nodded as she reached for the coffee cup with her free hand. She really had to get it together.

'Fine. Just...' She fiddled with the lid, lifting it off and releasing the aroma of freshly ground coffee. Two shots mixed with skim milk, just the way she liked it. Jane had remembered. 'I didn't sleep very well, that's all'.

Jane raised one eyebrow.

'You didn't sleep very well?'

Maura shrugged slightly, and took a mouthful of the coffee. It was good. Really good.

'I didn't sleep at all'.

'Hmm'. Jane lifted her hand from Maura's, and Maura felt her trail a thumb down Maura's cheek. The tender, warm touch was almost too much, and Maura closed her eyes, concentrating on the coffee and the warm buzz it was creating in her stomach. Anything to stop her thinking about Jane's fingers, Jane's touch on her skin, that thumb running along other places on her body...

'Why was that?'

Maura's eyes snapped open, and her hand tightened involuntarily around the coffee cup. She knew that Jane noticed. Jane, it seemed, noticed everything.

She took a deep breath, and responded with a question of her own.

'Why didn't you come back last night?'

Jane's brow wrinkled in confusion, and then, slowly, her eyes widened as realisation dawned. She seemed to struggle with her words for a moment, not quite knowing what to say or how to answer, and Maura just waited, quietly sipping her coffee. Her heart was pounding, and her palms felt a bit clammy. But she had asked the question now, and there was no taking it back.

She certainly had not expected the answer that she finally got.

'Because I didn't want to...' A pause, before Jane tried again. 'Because I care about you. A lot'. Another pause. 'Too much to rush things'.

The feeling that flooded through Maura was indescribable. Pure relief, mostly. Disbelief, elation, and a warmth that she had never known before. She almost laughed out loud, even as she saw the incredulous look on Jane's face.

'You mean you've been up all night worrying that I didn't...'

'That you didn't find me attractive after all? Yes, I guess I have'. As soon as she admitted it out loud, Maura realised how absurd it sounded, and when she raised her eyes it was to see Jane shaking her head, looking as if she couldn't decide between laughing and crying herself.

'Idiot'.

'Excuse me?'

'For someone with so many letters after their name, you're an idiot'. Jane reached out and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind Maura's ear, her soft touch at odds with the frustration and disbelief in her voice. 'Don't you know how amazingly beautiful you are?'

The look on Maura's face must have told Jane everything she needed to know.

'Apparently not. But didn't you get how I feel about you - when we kissed?'

This time, it was Maura who struggled to answer. She had 'got' how Jane felt about her - or thought she had. And then she thought she must have got it wrong. It genuinely hadn't crossed her mind that Jane hadn't wanted to sleep with her last night because she cared too much. But she was saved from having to force out a reply by Jane leaning forward, and Maura closed her eyes as their lips met.

Everything that she couldn't say was in that kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, Jane gestured ruefully to the computer screen.

'Course, going slow always seems like a good idea, but...'

'Slowly'. The correction was automatic, but Maura couldn't help a smile at the look on Jane's face. 'The correct grammar is 'going slowly'. Not 'slow''.

'Whatever. It's gonna be harder than I thought it would be'. Jane returned Maura's smile in an effort to take the serious edge off her words. 'Especially if you buy that'.

Maura raised her eyebrows. Jane's sincerity was not lost on her, but neither was the flirtatiousness in the other woman's tone. Suddenly, she felt a bit lightheaded from lack of sleep and from the caffeine kick that was starting to hit, and, after another kiss like that, she didn't have many inhibitions left.

'And what makes you think you would see them if I did?'

'Well, I was wondering whether you would maybe like to come down and see the delights of Highland Falls one weekend'. Jane looked and sounded confident, but her fingers gave her away, nervously fiddling with Maura's coffee cup. 'I have an apartment off West Point, in the town. There's not much there apart from the military stuff, but even that's worth a look if you've never been - they do tours round the Academy. And it's good for hiking round there if the weather's good, and...'

But Maura didn't give her a chance to finish, cutting her off mid-flow with another kiss that was even more passionate than before. Her tiredness forgotten, she stood up and wrapped her arms around Jane's neck, revelling in the brunette's response and wondering, at the back of her mind, how she could ever have doubted anything.

And it was far too long since she had been to New York.


	8. Chapter 8

Maura stood by her front door, going through a mental checklist before she left the house. Everything was switched off, and the timers that needed to be set were set. She'd taken the garbage out and cleared the refrigerator of any perishables - not that there were many, since she hadn't done much cooking over the past few days. Her small suitcase was clutched in her hand, packed with enough things for a long weekend. Warm clothes, sturdy boots for hiking, something a little dressier for the evenings, toiletries. Jane's Christmas present - late, now, since Christmas had been and gone three days ago, but she had spent a lot of time looking for just the right thing, and she was pleased with what she had found. And the lilac lingerie set...she felt her stomach flip in anticipation, and she smiled to herself. Enough checking. She couldn't wait to get going and, after setting the alarm system, she locked the door behind her and made her way out to her car. This weekend had been too long in coming, and she didn't want to waste a moment.

The weeks after Thanksgiving had passed in a blur of work and Jane, Jane and work. Death hadn't seemed to care that it was coming up to Christmas, and Maura had already committed to working the holidays as usual. She had been kept so busy that any plans for a weekend in New York had been put off, and rearranged, only to be put off again. It hadn't helped that Jane, too, had been buried with work, caught up in a drug dealing investigation on campus that had dragged on and on and that, in the end, meant that she had reluctantly abandoned any plans to visit Boston and had just stayed at West Point. By the time Christmas Day had come around - just like any other day except that she had wished the security guard a 'Merry Christmas' instead of the usual 'good morning' - Maura had begun to resent it. Work had always been her solace, somewhere that she could retreat to, something that brought her pleasure and reminded her that she was good at something, that she could help people, that she could make a difference. But, for the first time, she had begun to feel like it was an intrusion. It was keeping her away from Jane. And she had wanted to be with Jane more than anything else in the world.

Her everyday routine had very quickly altered to accommodate her girlfriend - she had started thinking of Jane as that, although she had never said it out loud - even though Jane was over two hundred miles away. Every morning when she woke up, the first thing she did now was not to head for the coffee machine or the shower, but to reach for her cell phone and send Jane a message. Every lunch time, or thereabouts, Jane would send her a message back. Later in the afternoon, assuming that Maura wasn't elbow-deep in an autopsy and that Jane wasn't out and about, there would be emails back and forth. And in the evenings, no matter how late it was, they would talk on the phone - even if it was just to say good night.

She had come to rely on that routine to get her through the day, and she suspected that Jane had as well. It gave her a little thrill to look at her cell phone and see a message waiting, or to see an email pop up on her computer at work, and the buzz of excitement that she always got when she saw that it was from Jane was addictive. And she found that she actually looked forward to going home at night, because then she would get to talk to Jane. But still, Maura missed her, and there had been times when it had been really hard, times when she had wished Jane had spent the night on Thanksgiving because at least then she would have more memories to see her through. At those times, Jane's idea of taking things slowly had seemed like the worst idea in the world...and she knew that Jane had felt the same.

_'Are you okay, Jane?'_

_Maura was curled up on her sofa, phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. It was late, admittedly, and they were both tired. But Jane seemed distracted, and not her usual chatty self._

_'Yeah, why?'_

_'You seem...I don't know'. Maura took a sip of her wine. 'Distracted. Is everything okay?'_

_'Umm-hmm...except I really want to kiss you right now, and you aren't here. In fact, I've been wanting to kiss you all day. It's driving me crazy'._

_Jane's voice was quiet, husky, and it sent tingles down Maura's spine. She smiled, even though no one was there to see it, and wriggled further down into the sofa cushions. She loved knowing that Jane missed her, too. But she was sure that she had read something about that not so long ago - an article about the impulse to kiss..._

_'Basorexia'._

_There was a pause on the other end of the line._

_'Bless you'._

_'No, silly, I didn't sneeze. Basorexia. The overwhelming desire to kiss. It can be quite serious if it gets out of control, but it sounds like you have...'_

_'Maura!' Jane sounded incredulous through her laughter. 'Stop with the google mouth'._

_'Google mouth?'_

_'Yeah. It's the technical term for spouting sciencey stuff at me just when I was trying to head somewhere a bit more romantic'._

The explanation of where, exactly, Jane had been heading had made Maura determined never to bring science into a personal conversation again.

But Jane had not been the only one. In between phone calls and text messages and emails, she had always been in the background, always on Maura's mind. As Maura settled herself in the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition, she felt herself blushing as she recalled some of the more...risqué daydreams that she had indulged in during the few quiet moments she had snatched lately in her office. Alone at home, usually after she had spoken to Jane and actually heard the voice that she had imagined, those daydreams had taken on a life of their own, and she hoped that Jane never found out.

On the other hand...

Pulling out into the road, she pushed that thought away and told herself to concentrate. It hadn't snowed overnight and the road wasn't that icy, but still. She had pulled rank, for the first time ever, to get this weekend off call. She didn't want anything to happen to spoil it, and she certainly didn't want to end up being returned to sender in a body bag.

That thought forced her mind onto her driving, and she swallowed her mounting excitement in order to focus. In just a few hours, she would be there, and hopefully Jane would be pleased to see her.

Hopefully. She crossed her fingers on the steering wheel, and pushed any nagging, last minute doubts away. She usually didn't go in for surprises. But, after that miserable Christmas Day, she had experienced a kind of overwhelming urge herself, not just to kiss Jane, but to hold her, be with her. Talk to her face to face. The decision to take the weekend off had been a spontaneous one, hence the need to pull rank and more than a few strings. Once again, it was completely out of character for her...but then, she reasoned, she seemed to be doing a lot of things lately that she wouldn't normally do. One more wouldn't hurt.

Jane had no idea that she was on her way to New York.

* * *

It was dark by the time Maura pulled up outside the large house in Highland Falls. She had intended it to be, since she wanted to arrive when Jane was home from work, but she hadn't meant for it to be quite as late as it was. The road had been icier than she had anticipated, and the traffic heavier, and then she had got lost. Even though the town was tiny, one of the disadvantages of a surprise visit was that she couldn't exactly call and ask for directions, and she had discovered too late that her satnav was on the blink. As a result, it was past eight when she finally stopped.

Gazing up at the house - a colonial style terrace that had obviously been converted into apartments - she let the engine idle for a moment as she tried to work out which apartment was Jane's. Second floor, she knew that. She really hoped it was the one with lights shining around the corner of the blinds...but if it was the one in pitch darkness, well, she reasoned that she would just wait for a while, or try and find a coffee shop. The street was quiet, residential, but it was close to the centre of town.

As she switched off the ignition and climbed out of the car, she felt the butterflies take off in her stomach again. She'd managed not to think too much about what she was doing during the six-hour drive, but now she was excited. And nervous. What if Jane didn't want her there? What if she had plans? Maura was prepared for her having to work, but she hadn't thought about the possibility that Jane might have other things on, and, although she was fairly sure that Jane would have mentioned it, she couldn't be sure. Standing on the sidewalk, under the glow of the streetlamp with her suitcase clutched in her hand, Maura was suddenly very unsure about the whole thing.

But she knew that she couldn't stand there forever, and neither could she turn around, drive back to Boston and pretend that she'd never had the idea in the first place. And, she realised, there was someone at the main entrance to the apartments, a young woman obviously on her way out somewhere, who was holding the door and looking at Maura quizzically.

'Are you coming in?'

Maura took a deep breath, and nodded.

'Yes, thank you'.

The woman smiled as Maura hurried towards the entrance, and waited until she was inside before making her way carefully down the street and disappearing round the corner. Perhaps in a subconscious effort to take her mind off her nerves, Maura couldn't help wondering who she was, and where she was going on such a cold evening. But then, she reasoned, the woman had probably wondered the same about her.

She let the door click shut behind her, and paused at the bottom of the stairs. Second floor. Lifting her suitcase, and cursing the heavy walking boots inside, she began to head up. It was only when she was almost there, and was just wondering how best to do it - smile, and say 'surprise!'? Blatantly lie and say she was in the neighbourhood anyway, and risk breaking out in hives? Or kiss Jane before she had the chance to ask? - when she heard a familiar voice coming from an open doorway just above her, out of sight.

'Look, Casey...I can't'.

Maura froze. She knew that voice. But more importantly, she knew the tone. It was the same, quiet, intimate tone that she sometimes heard on the phone, when Jane wasn't talking about work or her family, but about herself. About her and Maura.

It was stupid, Maura thought, but she had always felt like that tone was reserved for her.

Silently putting the suitcase down on the stair, she tiptoed up the last remaining steps and peered round the corner to the apartment entrance. She couldn't quite see Jane. A tall man in army fatigues was standing just outside the doorway, facing back into the apartment with one of his hands resting on what Maura assumed was Jane's arm. Or shoulder. Or cheek.

Maura swallowed.

'Ok'. The man nodded. He had dark hair, Maura noticed, but she couldn't see his face. Maybe it was just as well.

She couldn't help feeling that she was witnessing a private moment that wasn't meant for her eyes and, suddenly, she felt a bit sick.

'I get it'. The man - Casey - continued speaking. 'But you know what this means?'

'Yeah'. Maura couldn't see Jane nodding, but she could imagine it, and she heard the deep intake of breath. 'Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry, Casey. I really am'.

Maura wondered whether she could sneak quietly away without them hearing her. She wasn't sure that she wanted to hear any more, and suddenly she wished that she had never come, never had this stupid idea of surprising Jane. Even if it did sound like Jane was letting him down gently, Maura didn't think that she could stand to hear it.

But, somehow, she found herself rooted to the spot.

'Yeah. Me too'.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Casey's neck, and Maura saw him reciprocate, heard him kiss Jane - God, she hoped it was on the cheek - and, before she could turn around and disappear back down the staircase, he was backing away, walking towards her, leaving a clear field of vision to Jane's door. She could see Jane, her tall, athletic frame clad in sweatpants and t-shirt, hand resting on the doorframe as she watched Casey go. But, to start with, she didn't see Maura.

'Evening'.

It was Casey's polite greeting, delivered as he passed Maura on the corner, that drew Jane's attention. And now, even though she really, really wanted to, it was too late for Maura to run anywhere.

* * *

_A/N - I should probably apologise for that slight cliff-hanger. Cruel, I know. But this story is angst as well as romance - and that means angst for you as well as Jane & Maura! Update will be soon, I promise..._


	9. Chapter 9

'Maura?'

Jane looked astounded. Shocked. As if she didn't quite believe what she was seeing - a little, Maura thought, like a deer caught in headlights. She supposed that she couldn't really blame her. Until approximately five seconds ago, Jane had thought that Maura was in Boston.

Boston to New York was a long way to go in five seconds.

For a moment, Maura couldn't speak. She didn't know what to say, and she didn't know how to handle all the emotion that was suddenly flooding through her. She wanted to ask Jane what she had just seen, but she wasn't sure that she would really want to know the answer. She wanted to sit down on the stairs and cry. She wanted to slap Jane for making her look and feel like the world's biggest, most gullible idiot. And she was slightly horrified to realise that, despite everything, what she wanted most of all was to go over and kiss her and never let go.

Torn between talking, kissing, self-pity and physical violence, she decided that it was best to do none of those things but to just go. She should have gone earlier, before Jane saw her.

She should never have come in the first place.

'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come'. She started to back away, one eye on Jane and one eye on the stairs. The last thing she wanted was a broken neck from falling. 'I should have called first...I...'

'Hey, wait!'

Maura tried to ignore her, to turn and walk down the stairs, collect her suitcase and get the hell out of there before the tears that had suddenly welled up in her eyes started to fall. But she heard rapid, soft footsteps behind her, and felt Jane's firm hand on her shoulder. Stopping, she took a deep breath, willing herself to hold it together for just a few moments more, and turned around.

She was expecting guilt. She was expecting some kind of apology, excuses, whatever. She was expecting anything except the slightly dazed, confused, but delighted smile that she saw lighting up Jane's face.

'You're really here'.

It wasn't a question, but it sounded as if Jane was having trouble believing it and Maura shook her head. She wished that Jane had been imagining it. Blinking rapidly, she pulled away from Jane's grip and took a step backwards.

'Yes, and I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry. If you'll just let me...'.

'Hey...no, wait, Maura!' Jane still looked amazed, but she was also still smiling as she reached out again, closing the tiny distance that Maura had managed to put between them. 'I'm sorry, I'm just surprised, that's all. I'm...' She paused, shaking her head as her smile widened. 'I have never been so pleased to see anyone in my life'.

Maura froze as she felt Jane's arms slip around her, felt herself being pulled tightly into the warm embrace that she had been dreaming about for so many weeks, but her mind was whirring around in circles. Jane said she was pleased to see her. Jane was acting as if she was pleased to see her. Jane wasn't that good an actress. And yet...Casey.

'Maur?'

Jane pulled back a little, still keeping her arms around Maura as if to prevent her running away. Her brow was wrinkled in confusion, and her brown eyes were full of concern.

'What's wrong, sweetie?'

Maura swallowed, hard, but it wasn't enough to stop the single tear sliding down her cheek.

'Ah, no, Maura, please don't cry! At least, not without telling me what's wrong?' Jane looked slightly panicked, and Maura felt her tighten her grip. 'Come in and talk to me, I'll...'

'Who was that?'

She'd blurted out the question before she really thought about it, and now she stood, watching, dread turning into despair in the pit of her stomach as realisation slowly dawned on Jane's face.

'Casey?'

Despair turned to disbelief as Maura saw Jane's eyebrows shoot upwards, and saw the corners of her mouth edge the same way as she began to shake her head.

'You thought Casey and I were...? Oh, God, Maura, no. No, no, no'.

And disbelief turned into a tiny flicker of hope as Jane pulled her once more into a crushing hug that left her struggling to breathe. The brunette was still shaking her head, as if she couldn't understand how Maura could have thought such a thing, and she was laughing a little as she finally let Maura go. Maura thought that she looked relieved - relieved that Maura's problem, the reason she was upset and crying, was actually nothing that important or awful after all - and the flicker of hope grew.

Maybe she had got it wrong.

'Casey and I...we're just friends, Maura. I've known him since I was knee-high'.

'So what...?' Maura stopped.  _What was he doing kissing you? Holding you?_  She didn't ask, but Jane got the general idea and sighed, her smile gradually fading.

'He came to talk something over with me. I had a decision to make and...well, I'd already made up my mind, but he came anyway. We just had a couple of beers and talked, Maura. Nothing else'. She wrinkled her nose. 'It would be like sleeping with my brother, or something'.

Maura blinked, struggling to take it all in.  _Then what...?_

Jane saw the look on her face, and held up one finger to stop her speaking. 'He kissed me on the cheek, nowhere else. And I gave him a hug goodbye because he's being reassigned to a base in Germany in a couple of weeks. I don't know when I'll see him again'.

The wave of relief that hit Maura was almost overwhelming, and without Jane's arms around her, she sank to the floor, running her hands through her hair and letting the tears flow because she didn't have the energy to hold them back anymore. She was aware of Jane sitting down next to her, and felt herself being held again as Jane's fingers wiped away the salty drops that were streaming down her face. She hadn't realised how sick she had felt, how heavy and numb, until now, when those feelings were gone as quickly as they had come.

Jane waited until she was all cried out before taking hold of her arm, and gently pulling her to her feet.

'That's yours?'

Maura wiped her eyes one last time, and followed the line of Jane's finger down towards her suitcase, abandoned halfway up the flight of stairs. She nodded. She'd forgotten all about it.

Jane padded down to rescue it, before taking Maura's hand and leading her back up and into the apartment. The front door opened straight into an open plan kitchen and living area, with a couple of doors off to one side that Maura guessed were bedroom and bathroom. It was small and fairly cluttered, but the muted colours were warm and soothing, and the worn furniture looked comfortable. She saw a couple of empty beer bottles on the coffee table, a rumpled cushion on the armchair where either Jane or Casey had sat, and a sweatshirt thrown carelessly over the back of the sofa. She had to resist the urge to go over and fold it.

It felt like a home that was lived in, and Maura couldn't help but compare it to her own house that was larger, tidier, without a scratch on the furniture or a cushion out of place, and yet had never felt so welcoming as this tiny, messy apartment.

'Sorry about the mess'. Jane had deposited Maura's case by the sofa, and was heading into the kitchen area. 'I meant to tidy up yesterday, but didn't have a chance'.

Maura smiled ruefully as she pulled off her boots and placed them neatly by the door, before hanging her coat on a spare hook and following Jane across the room.

'I didn't exactly give you much warning'.

'True'. Jane smiled back at her, before turning to fetch a couple of mugs from a cupboard. 'Coffee? Or tea? I have those herbal things you used to like.'

Maura was grateful that Jane didn't offer any alcohol. Much as she would have liked a glass of wine - or even a beer - she knew it wasn't a good idea. But...

'Since when have you drunk herbal tea?'

Jane shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed as she took a box down from the shelf above the mugs and held it up for Maura's inspection.

'Since I got back from tour the last time, I guess. I was off the coffee and these were ok'.

Maura peered closer. Camomile tea.

'Bags not leaves, I'm afraid'.

'That's ok. Thank you'. Maura looked on in amazement as Jane made herself one, too. She would never in a million years have thought that Jane would drink herbal tea...but then, she thought suddenly, she maybe didn't know Jane nearly as well as she thought she did.

'Here'. Jane walked back over to the sofa, moving the sweatshirt onto the floor and sitting down, patting the space next to her. And this time, Maura couldn't help it. Giving Jane a quick look of admonishment, she followed her back into the living area and, putting her mug down on the coffee table, picked up the sweatshirt and shook it out before smoothing it down, folding it neatly, and placing it on the armchair.

Jane's mouth twitched as she curled her legs underneath her, getting more comfortable.

'It's a gym sweater, Maura. Not a party dress'.

Maura didn't reply as she sat down next to Jane. She felt exhausted, and she was also starting to feel embarrassed. Everything that Jane had told her was going round and round in her head. She was still a bit sore and shaky from crying, but she was beginning to relax, and to think a bit more clearly. And the more she thought, the more embarrassed she became.

'Are you angry with me?'

'What for, folding my sweatshirt?'

'No, for...'

'For accusing me of sleeping with Casey?'

'I didn't exactly accuse you...' Maura felt her face grow hot as she squirmed under Jane's gaze. 'But yes. Aren't you cross with me?'

'No'. Jane smiled as she reached over for Maura's hand. 'No, I'm not. Although maybe next time give me a bit more warning, hmm? Just so I can tidy up, and get the latest guy out in plenty of time'.

Maura looked over in shock, and then caught the twinkle in Jane's eyes.

'Joke, Maura'. Jane shifted forward a bit to take Maura's other hand. 'There's no one else. I promise'. She paused, looking down at their entwined fingers, and bit her bottom lip. 'There never really has been. And I don't want there to be'.

Maura took a deep breath, Jane's words swimming around in her head. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. She couldn't believe how stupid she had very nearly been, and she couldn't grasp how Jane could not be furious with her for jumping to such an awful conclusion so quickly. But still...Jane's words hung in the air. Jane had spoken them, and Jane usually meant what she said.

'Really?'

This time, Jane didn't answer, but leaned in and captured Maura's lips in a long, soft kiss that said everything for her. Finally, Maura knew without a doubt that she had got it wrong. Jane wanted her, perhaps even loved her, and no one else.

From sinking into despair less than an hour earlier, Maura now felt so happy that she could have cried again. But instead, she kissed Jane back with everything she had, holding her close and running her hands through the unruly brown waves of hair that tumbled down Jane's back.

She never wanted to stop.

When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against Jane's, letting the smile spread across her face and allowing her body to relax against the brunette's. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she still had questions. Jane had never explained why Casey had come over to talk, what decision it was that she had had to make, or why it was she had chosen to talk to Casey and not Maura. Maura could only think that it had been an army issue. Perhaps Jane had needed some advice on a case she was working. But, right now, she didn't want to ask. She wanted to forget about Casey, forget about all the emotion and the tears and the horrible, sick feeling that she never wanted to experience again, and just lose herself in Jane. She wanted to hold her and kiss her, be held and be kissed.

There would be plenty of time for more talking later.


	10. Chapter 10

Jane?'

'Umm-hmm?'

Maura sat up and twisted around to look at the brunette, who was leaning back against the arm of the sofa and sounding decidedly sleepy. It was late. They hadn't eaten - neither of them had felt like it - and the mugs of tea sat, cold and forgotten, on the coffee table. Maura had been too comfortable to move, leaning back against Jane with the other woman's arms around her, but now she was convinced that Jane couldn't have any feeling left in her legs. And besides...they really needed to talk.

She didn't want it hanging over until the morning.

'Why was Casey here?'

Jane didn't answer straight away, but sighed and ran a hand over her eyes. She didn't look cross, Maura thought, just resigned. And thoughtful.

'Do we have to do this now?'

'Yes'. Maura sounded more decisive than she felt. Part of her still didn't want to know, but she knew it would eat away at her if she didn't get the full story. 'We do'.

Jane looked at her for a long moment, before straightening up and rearranging a cushion behind her back.

'I'm leaving the army'.

Maura just stared at her.

'What?'

'I'm leaving the army', Jane repeated. There was no emotion in her voice apart from tiredness. 'Casey came to talk me out of it'.

Maura knew her mouth was slightly open, that she was still staring at Jane like an idiot, but she couldn't help it. Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that. Jane loved being in the army.

It was her life.

'But...' She blinked, and started again. 'But you love the army!'

'Loved, Maura'. Jane pulled her knees up to her chest. 'Past tense. Not any more'.

Suddenly, Maura was completely lost again. Too many questions were swirling around in her brain, and she couldn't find the words to ask any of them. She felt like she had just recovered from the shock and the emotion of earlier, only to be hit with another round...but this time, she suspected, it actually had nothing to do with her.

She rested a hand on Jane's knee.

'Why?'

Jane didn't answer immediately, and Maura just waited. She was desperate to know, but she didn't want to push.

'I...when I got back from Africa, I wasn't doing so well'.

Jane paused, and Maura narrowed her eyes a little.  _Wasn't doing so well..._

'And after two tours in Afghanistan, I was doing even worse'.

Maura's heart seemed to sink into her stomach. She thought she knew what Jane was saying, but Jane fell silent, her eyes fixed on her knees and her mouth set in a tight line. And this time, Maura couldn't wait.

'Jane?' She squeezed Jane's knee. 'Jane, look at me'.

It took a few seconds, but Jane obeyed.

'PTSD?'

Maura had never felt so relieved as when Jane slowly shook her head.

'No. Not that...not quite, anyway'. She flashed a humourless smile. 'Severe depression and anxiety, according to the experts. But not PTSD. If I'd had that, I would have had to leave before now'.

Maura took a deep breath. Her scientific training, her logical brain, all her research and reading was kicking in, and she was beginning to feel better because of it. The medical conditions were something that she could understand, and they were something that she could help Jane with. And concentrating on the science divorced her a little from the fact that she was talking to her girlfriend, and not just another patient.

'Are you taking anything?'

'I was'. Jane reeled off a couple of names that Maura recognised immediately, and she nodded.

'That seems appropriate...but you're not anymore?'

Jane shook her head, eyeing Maura with a slightly amused look despite their conversation.

'Stopped three months ago'.

'Not all at once?'

'No, gradually'. Jane's mouth twitched. 'Just like I was told to, like a good girl'.

'Jane, this isn't funny'. Maura's eye caught the tea mugs on the table, and suddenly something clicked - something that she hadn't even realised had been nagging at her. 'That's why you were off coffee?'

Jane looked slightly surprised, but nodded. 'Caffeine and the pills...it wasn't a pretty combination'.

'No, it wouldn't have been. Are you sure you should have stopped them, though? How long were you on them?'

'Two years'.

Maura quickly did the math in her head. 'And you came off them over...how long?'

'Maura...stop. Please'. Jane shook her head, resting her hand on Maura's and squeezing it. 'It's fine. I'm fine. I promise'.

Maura swallowed, raising her eyes to meet Jane's. 'Then why are you leaving?'

'Because I can't go back to front line duty'.

The confusion must have shown clearly on Maura's face, and Jane held up a finger, silently asking Maura to let her explain.

'You've been wondering why I work at the IG, right?'

Maura couldn't deny it. It had seemed so unlike Jane to voluntarily put herself behind a desk, and she nodded, slowly.

'Well, there's your answer'. Jane sounded slightly bitter. 'I couldn't go back out there with clinical depression and panic attacks'.

She paused, her finger tapping on the back of Maura's hand in a light, nervous rhythm that betrayed her emotion at talking about it.

'Casey was my commanding officer out in Afghanistan. We were in school together, like I said...hell, we grew up together. He was the posh kid, the one that got teased because he actually did his homework and did what he was told. I looked out for him a bit. We were friends. But he went to college and I didn't, so in the army it all reversed. He was above me, he was the one looking out for me. When we got back from the second tour...he pulled some strings, I guess. So instead of an honourable discharge on medical grounds, I got a desk job'.

Maura could barely take it all in. It was a long time since she had heard Jane say so much in one go and, even though the other woman had spoken slowly, deliberately, as if the words were strange and unfamiliar to her as well, Maura was still struggling. So she just kept quiet.

'And now I'm better, I'm off the pills. I haven't had a panic attack in over a year. And I hate the IG, Maura. I really, really hate it'.

That was the first thing Jane had said that hadn't taken Maura by surprise.

'But at the same time...I don't think I could go back'.

Maura looked up sharply.

'To front line duty?'

Jane nodded, and Maura could see her bite her lip. The admission was quiet, but genuine nonetheless, and she felt herself melt a little. She knew what it must have cost Jane to say that.

'I had orders. About three weeks ago. They're having a big push at the moment with training the Afghan forces and setting everything up for withdrawal, and with my experience with the UN and everything...they wanted me to go'.

Finally, Maura was beginning to understand.

'And you said no'.

Jane nodded.

'I couldn't do it. No matter how much I want to...I can't go back there again'.

And Maura knew that 'there' didn't necessarily mean the harsh hell of Afghanistan. It meant a different hell. It meant the tormented days and sleepless nights of depression, of feeling like the rest of the world was on the other side of a thick glass window and that there was no way through, of being terrified every time a panic attack came and of struggling through the feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness that came afterwards. It might not happen again. But she could completely understand Jane not wanting to take the risk.

'Casey came to try and persuade me to go'.

'He came to persuade you to go back out there?' Maura's disbelief must have shown in her face, because Jane hastened to explain.

'Because if I disobey an order like that, Maura...it means disciplinary at best, discharge at worst. I knew that already, I didn't need him to tell me. So I decided to do it first. I applied for a discharge. He wanted to talk me out of that as well'.

Maura was silent for a moment, trying to let it all sink in. Gradually, the words that she had heard on the stairs came back to her...only now, they made perfect sense.

_'Casey...I can't'...'But you know what this means?'...'Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry'._

Jane had been saying that she couldn't go back, even though it meant the end of her career in the army - a career that Casey had nurtured and protected because Jane was his friend as well as his subordinate. And suddenly, Maura was sorry too. She felt terrible.

'God, Jane, I'm sorry'.

'It's ok. It's hardly your fault'.

'No, but...I shouldn't have jumped to the wrong conclusion, and...I know what all this means to you'.

Jane didn't reply, but squeezed Maura's hand again. That said more than any words could have done, and Maura held on tightly. She never wanted to let go.

'So...' She swallowed, a little nervous about asking the question. 'What are you going to do?'

Jane shook her head, a small smile spreading over her face even as, to Maura's amazement and horror, tears filled her eyes.

'I have absolutely no fucking clue'.

'Oh, sweetie'. Without even berating Jane for her language, Maura held out her arms, and Jane shifted to allow herself to be held. Leaning back against the sofa, Jane's head on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around the brunette's back, Maura closed her eyes. It felt good. So good, despite everything.

She had no clue herself what Jane would do, and what it meant for the two of them - if anything. But she was tired of thinking. She could tell that Jane was, too.

All that mattered was that she was there. Jane was with her. And neither of them were going anywhere.


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing Maura was aware of, before she had even opened her eyes, was the light. It seeped into her consciousness, nudging her into wakefulness, telling her that it was late and that she should have been up hours ago, but when she tried to ignore it and burrow down deeper into her pillow, she found that her pillow wasn’t there. There were no soft feathers to bury her face into, no clean, fresh-smelling sheets to rub against her cheek. Instead, when she turned her head, she felt a sharp pain in her neck. There was something hard against her nose. And, rather than the scent of lavender from the bedclothes, she could smell warm skin, and something vaguely herby. 

Peeking through her eyelashes, she saw that cold winter sunlight was streaming into the room around the drawn curtains - but that it was coming from the wrong direction. Her window wasn’t usually behind her bed, it was to the side. And, opening her eyes fully, she blinked as she realised she wasn’t in bed at all. She was on a sofa. The hard thing that she had felt against her nose was the arm. And the pillow that she had tried to snuggle down into was actually a person. 

Jane. 

Maura’s heart gave a thump, and she turned her head gingerly, trying to work out whose limbs were where. They were both lengthways along the sofa, that much she could see. She was lying in between Jane’s legs, her head half on Jane’s chest and half leaning on the arm of the sofa, and Jane’s arm was around her front. She had no idea how, exactly, they had managed to fall asleep like that and, as she lifted her head, she felt Jane stir. 

‘Ow’. 

She couldn’t help the grimace as she felt her neck crick, the pain shooting all the way down her arm. It crossed her mind that she was too old for this, that her days of sleeping anywhere other than a soft double bed were over - even though she had to admit that they had never really begun - and, with a twinge of horror, she realised that she had essentially been lying on Jane all night. She thought her neck was bad, but Jane’s entire body must be practically numb. Sitting up carefully, she turned to see Jane stretching, blinking, taking things in just as Maura had done….and then a slow, sleepy smile in Maura’s direction just about made her melt. 

‘Wow’. 

‘I’m so sorry’. Maura tried to move faster, but her neck wouldn’t let her. ‘You must be…..’

‘I’m fine’. Jane reached out an arm, and Maura felt long fingers trailing down her cheek. ‘Just, er….’ She  laughed a little nervously. ‘Not exactly how I imagined our first night together’. 

‘No, I suppose not’. Maura thought of the lilac lingerie set in her suitcase. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep’. 

‘Don’t apologise’. Jane yawned,and rubbed her eyes. ‘It was kind of nice’. 

‘Kind of nice?’ Maura raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ve squashed you all night’. 

‘Yeah’. Jane nodded. 

‘You must be completely numb’.

Jane made a show of wiggling her toes, her fingers, rolling her shoulders, and then nodded again. ‘Yeah’. 

‘But it was kind of nice?”

‘Yeah. It was’. 

Maura ran her hands through her hair. It was all over the place - she could feel it sticking up - and she knew she probably looked awful…but still, Jane had sounded genuine. She didn’t sound like she was teasing. And, when Maura looked into her brown eyes, she saw warmth. Affection. 

Love. 

Suddenly, the crick in her neck didn’t seem so bad. 

‘I….yes. It was’. 

For a moment, they just looked at each other, smiles spreading across faces and sleep gradually fading from minds, and it was only when she felt Jane’s hand on hers that Maura remembered her first waking thought - that it was late. 

‘What time is it?’

Jane squinted over at the clock that hung on the wall in the kitchen area of the room. 

‘Ten-twenty’. 

‘What?”

Maura sprang to her feet, a movement that she instantly regretted when fresh pain jolted around her neck. She looked down at Jane, panic etched on her face, but the brunette didn’t seem to be in the least bit bothered. 

‘You’re going to be late’. 

‘I think you’ll find I already am’. Jane laughed at the look on Maura’s face. ‘Relax. I’m off today’. 

‘Oh’. 

Jane looked at her for a moment before swinging her legs over the side of the sofa and stretching properly, moving her head from side to side and swinging her elbows back and forth. When she stood up, Maura couldn’t help noticing how her tall, lithe body seemed to unfold gracefully, despite having been cramped on the sofa all night, and she swallowed. 

She couldn’t quite believe that she had finally spent the night with Jane…and that it had been like this. 

Sudden light flooded the room, and Maura blinked rapidly. Jane had walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, revealing a clear blue sky and another inch of snow, and Maura wandered over to stand beside her and peer out. Her car was still there - not that she had expected it to be anywhere else - and the street was quiet, pretty in the snow before it turned to slush. She had a sudden, childish urge to run downstairs and make the first footprints in the smooth patch of lawn in front of the apartments, and she wondered what Jane would say if she did. 

Probably nothing….in fact, she would probably join in. 

‘Coffee?’

Maura turned, and nodded. 

‘Please’. The stronger, the better….but she didn’t add that bit. She thought that Jane would probably work it out by herself and, sure enough, the mug that she received a couple of minutes later smelled rich, full bodied, and very, very strong. Even though it did taste suspiciously like instant, it was still good. 

‘Would you…er, like a bath or something?’ Jane looked a little embarrassed asking, and Maura realised that she had been unconsciously rubbing her neck, trying to ease some of the knots and tensions from sleeping in such an awkward position. ‘I think I have some bubble bath somewhere…it might help your back’. 

Maura thought for a moment. On one hand, she felt bad monopolising the bathroom when Jane must be just as achy and sore, if not more so, than she was. On the other hand, the thought of sinking into hot water was so tempting. Her clothes felt like they were sticking to her, and she was beginning to feel a bit grubby. A shower would have done, but since Jane was offering….

‘Yes, please’. She smiled over at Jane. ‘That would be nice’. 

Lying back against the smooth end of the bath, up to her neck in fruity-smelling bubbles and with strands of her hair trailing in the water, Maura closed her eyes for a moment and let herself drift. She felt a bit drained, lethargic, woolly-headed - like she’d been drinking, or had been on a long flight - but she knew it was just reaction. And she didn’t really want to think about the night before, about her mistake and about Jane’s news. Today, she just wanted to forget that yesterday had ever happened. She wanted to start over. 

She could hear Jane moving around, and she lazily wondered what the other woman was doing. Tidying up, maybe….although somehow she doubted it. She heard a clang of pans, the slam of a cupboard door, and a muttered curse, and she smiled to herself. Breakfast. 

Deciding that she should do breakfast - it was only fair, since she had been enjoying the bath - Maura climbed out and, drying herself off with the towel Jane had left for her, wrapped it carefully around herself before looking thoughtfully at the bath. The water was still hot, but she wasn’t sure what the protocol for sharing baths was, especially this early in a…..well, a relationship, she supposed. Shrugging, she decided to leave the water anyway. If Jane wanted it, she could have it. 

‘Done already?’

Jane was standing at the stove, the ingredients for pancakes spread out around her and a slightly harassed look on her face. Maura smiled as she wrapped her arms around Jane’s waist, leaning her face against the brunette’s back, and nodded. 

‘All yours. I’ll do this’. 

‘No, it’s okay’. 

Jane cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl, and was reaching for a fork to whisk them with when Maura stopped her. She wasn’t sure why she did it. Perhaps it was the feel of Jane’s body under her hands. Perhaps it was the realisation that, even though they hadn’t seen each other for weeks, they still hadn’t really kissed, or held each other apart from when they had cried. Or perhaps it was the fact that, despite the warmth of the apartment, the sight of the snow outside was bringing her out in goose pimples, and she really wanted Jane’s arms around her. 

‘Leave it for a minute’. 

Jane turned awkwardly in her arms, and Maura saw her eyes widen slightly at the sight of the towel. 

‘I couldn’t see a robe in the bathroom’. 

‘Want me to get you one?’

But Jane’s husky voice didn’t sound very enthusiastic, and Maura shook her head. 

‘No. I want you to kiss me’. 

‘I have morning breath’. 

‘Jane…..’ Maura reached between them to take hold of Jane’s hands, moving them around to rest on her own hips. She felt Jane shiver slightly at the contact, and she felt her own heart beat a little faster. Suddenly, she wanted more than a kiss. 

Much more. 

‘Do I look like I care about morning breath?’

‘I….I guess not’. Jane’s brown eyes darkened as she looked down at Maura, half-naked already in the towel, and Maura raised her eyebrows slightly. 

‘And besides…..’ She bit her bottom lip, her mouth curving upward in a tiny smile. She hoped she wasn’t about to scare Jane off completely, but….what the hell. 

‘I never said you had to kiss me on the mouth’. 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
